


The Step After Denial

by songofhell



Series: The Step After Denial Collection [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofhell/pseuds/songofhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester could not believe that Crowley had got him into bed, and more than that, he couldn't believe that he had enjoyed it. It was just a one time thing, though... right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One-Time Deal

“Crowley, you bastard!”

A mildly offended expression crossed Crowley’s face. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t,” Dean snapped.

“I have done nothing but help you.”

“Yeah, and you helping has gotten me beat up and has put me at Death’s mercy!”

“Oh, it all worked out in the end. No need to be so touchy.”

Dean shook his head, pure rage showing on his face. “My brother is in the cage; that is not working out!”

“That was the plan, was it not?”

“Yeah, the plan that I was pressured into agreeing to.”

“Look, Dean, I would love to help you, I really would, but I don’t have the power to get Sam out without bringing out the devil too. And in case I haven’t made myself clear, I’m not doing that.”

Dean may had promised Sam that he would get on with his life after he was gone, but he couldn’t. It was his job to protect Sammy, and now he was in the cage with Michael and Lucifer. So he had summoned Crowley. After all, he had played a major role in them putting the devil back in the cage. They had worked together, and Dean was a firm believer that the devil (or demon) you know is better than the one you don’t.

“Then what does have the power?”

Crowley sighed. “I don’t know. And I’m telling you the truth here. I like you, Dean, you’re not bad, for a hunter.”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.”

Crowley shrugged. “Take it how you will. Are you going to let me out of this thing?” He looked pointedly down at the devil’s trap.

Dean sighed and bent down to scrape some of the paint away. He wasn’t sure why he was so readily trusting the demon, but whatever the reason, he did trust Crowley – to a point, at least. He knew that Crowley had no reason to lie to him about this, and if he really wanted to kill him, he had had plenty of opportunities to do so. Although, he no longer had any use for Crowley, so why he wasn’t killing him was another matter – one that he really didn’t have an answer for.

“Thank you,” Crowley said, taking a step outside of the trap and turning to face Dean,

Dean looked up at him in slight surprise. He had expected Crowley to vanish in his normal manner, not stick around to chat.

“There has to be something I can do,” Dean tried again, his desperation seeping into his voice. There was always something, they had always been able to save each other.

Crowley looked almost sympathetic as he shook his head. “There’s nothing.” Dean looked down, suddenly wanting to be alone. He looked up again in surprise, though, as Crowley placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t flinch away, despite all of his instincts screaming at him to kill the demon who was touching him. “Sulking isn’t a good look for you, dear. I think you need a distraction.”

Dean didn’t have it in him to argue. “What did you have in mind?”

His grip on the human tightened ever so slightly and then they were outside Crowley’s favorite bar, an upscale place in St. Louis, Missouri. Dean looked around in surprise, his stomach spinning uncomfortably. “What the fuck, Crowley?” he demanded.

“I wasn’t in the mood to argue about it. Besides, you’ll enjoy this.”

“Drinking with a demon? I draw the line at working with them.”

“Then make an exception.” Without another word, Crowley turned and walked into the bar, holding the door open for Dean, who reluctantly followed.

Crowley got them his normal VIP table and ordered them both drinks, deciding that Dean needed to try something different from his normal cheap liquor. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was doing this. Maybe he just thought that it would be amusing to push Dean outside his comfort zone, but he knew that it was more than that. He’d deal with that later, though.

“Trust me, it’s better than the shit you usually drink,” Crowley said when Dean eyed his drink skeptically.

“There’s nothing wrong with what I usually drink,” Dean protested, but raised his glass to his lips, nonetheless. He took a sip and then a larger drink, trying to hide from the demon sitting across from him that he did actually quite like it. It was no use, though, and Crowley smirked as he picked up his own drink.

They drank in silence that was, oddly enough, not awkward. It almost felt natural for the demon and the hunter to be in the bar together. Dean knew that he was safe, that Crowley wasn’t going to try anything, and he was perfectly comfortable getting lost in his thoughts about Sam. Crowley, meanwhile, was still trying to figure out why he was doing this for somebody who would rather he be dead than sitting across from him right now. Dean flagged over the waiter to get another drink, and Crowley went ahead and got another too.  
He eyed the hunter as the waiter walked away and he started in on his drink.

“You’re moping,” he accused.

Dean set his drink back down on the table a little harder than was necessary. “What am I supposed to be doing, Crowley?”

“I brought you here to get your mind off of everything.”

“And why is that? Why do you even care?”

Great question, Crowley thought to himself. “Because contrary to popular belief, I do care.”

“Bullshit. You’re a demon, you’re not capable of caring.”

For some reason, the remark angered him more than it should. “Fine,” he snapped. “Because everyone who knows anything about you agrees that on Dean Winchester’s good side is a good place to be.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? You think taking me to a bar is going to get a slimy demon like you on my good side?”

“Dean, we’ve already worked together, I’m already where I need to be, I’m just ensuring I stay there.”

Dean wanted to protest, but there was nothing he could say. He had already proven Crowley’s point earlier that day when he had let him out of the devil’s trap instead of killing him like he easily could have. He sighed. “I figured you’d want me off my game.”

“Not if I ever need your help.”

“Yeah? Well, you may be out of luck.”

“And why is that?”

“I promised Sam that I’d get a normal life.”

“And that’s what you want?”

Dean looked Crowley in the eyes. “Yes.”

“Then live your dream. I’ll do what I can to keep other demons away from you.” He had said it without thinking, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he hadn’t.

“Why the hell would you do that? I won’t be helping you any. Once I give up hunting, I’m giving it up for good.”

“I realize that. Consider it a thank-you gift for locking Lucifer up.”

Dean eyed him suspiciously for a few moments before deciding to trust him. “Whatever,” he muttered before downing the rest of his drink.

“Where will you go?” Crowley asked after a couple more drinks.

“There’s this girl – Lisa… if she’ll take me back.”

Crowley grimaced. “Good luck with that.”

Dean nodded his thanks. “Can’t go to her tonight, obviously,” he mused, staring down at his fourth empty glass. And it wasn’t like they were drinking beer, it was some of the highest alcohol content offered here. “And I don’t want to go back to Bobby’s – it reminds me too much of Sam. I’ll have to get a hotel room.”

“There is a fourth option. You could always stay with me.”

Dean looked up in surprise. “Why do I feel like this is the option that gets me killed by a hoard of demons?”

“Because you aren’t very trusting. It’ll be just you and me – no other demons. Lucifer burnt down my house, so I’m thinking of finding an apartment tonight to stay in until I find a new one.”

Dean sighed. “Okay, fine, why not? What’s the worst that can happen?”

***

Crowley pushed Dean down onto the bed roughly, glaring down at him. “Do not speak to me like that in my own house,” he growled.

“House?” Dean scoffed, honestly not caring what happened to him. “This is an apartment, and one that you hardly own, at that. When you really think about it, you have nothing.” He pushed himself up on his forearms and smirked up at the demon.

“Yes, because that’s what I get for helping you!”

“Oh, don’t try to pin this on me-“

“How about you try to show a bit of gratitude? You wouldn’t have made it anywhere near as far as you did if it wasn’t for me.”

“Or maybe we would have.”

Anger seemed to peak on Crowley’s features before he became deadly calm. He took off his coat, suit jacket, and tie, laying them neatly over a chair and kicked his shoes and socks off. Dean was coming to his senses and was growing nervous, but before he could move, Crowley waved his hand and he was pinned to the bed by an invisible force. The demon turned back to his prey and walked slowly over to the edge of the bed, raising his hand once he reached it and snapping his fingers. Immediately, Dean’s clothes disappeared, tearing an indignant squeak from him.

“What the hell?” he demanded furiously.

Crowley just smirked as his eyes ran obviously over Dean’s body. “I have to say, Dean, I thought your attitude was your way of compensating, but it appears I was wrong.” He met his eyes. “You are gorgeous.”

“What are you doing?” Dean snarled through clenched teeth.

“Teaching you a lesson. You will learn to respect me.”

“Torture?” he guessed. Though why he had to be naked for torture he didn’t know. Maybe it just made things more amusing.

Crowley’s smirk grew. “Not exactly.” With that, he made no further delay before climbing onto the bed and straddling Dean.

Dean’s eyes grew comically wide as realization sunk in. “No. No way. Get off of me, Crowley, this isn’t funny!”

“I’m not trying to be funny,” he purred as he leaned down and pressed his lips to his neck.

Dean felt his cock twitch in spite of himself and he tried to find a reasonable explanation as to why Crowley was having this effect on him. “Look, you-you’ve made your point. You may or may not know this, but I’m straight!”

“Is that so?” He ground down against Dean’s semi-hard cock, eliciting a delicious gasp from the human trapped below him. “Your body seems to think differently.”

Dean whimpered as Crowley bit down on his neck, but he couldn’t deny that the demon was right. He didn’t know why, but his body was responding to Crowley quite enthusiastically. He was at war with himself. Crowley’s lips felt so good against him; he could feel the demon’s erection through his pants and he just wanted his clothes to come off. But he was a demon, and a demon in a male body. This was wrong on so many levels.

“Fuck!” Dean gasped loudly as Crowley suddenly reached down between them and wrapped a hand around his cock. His hips arched off the bed as Crowley stoked him and he realized that Crowley wad no longer pinning him to the bed with the demonic force that he possessed. He wasn’t sure how long it had been so, but he could now move freely.  
Fuck it, he decided in that moment. He had enough alcohol in his system that he could blame it on that if he felt too bad about it later. His hands shot up and he began hastily undoing the buttons of Crowley’s shirt. The demon froze in surprise for a moment before he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting Dean’s uncertainly. Dean held his gaze as he finished with the buttons of his shirt, then his hand moved up to wrap around the back of his head, tangling in his hair as he pulled him down into a kiss.

Who would have thought that a demon would be such an amazing kisser, but Crowley certainly was. Dean moaned into the kiss as he pushed Crowley’s shirt off and then moved his hands down to his pants, a bit surprised when that caused him to groan. Had he seriously just cause one of the most powerful demons in the world to groan? That was hot.  
He pushed down Crowley’s pants and boxers and immediately took hold of his cock, pumping his hand over it teasingly slowly. Crowley growled as he broke the kiss. He grabbed hold of both of Dean’s wrists, pinning his arms down to the bed as he ground his cock down against his. They both groaned loudly at the friction and Crowley lowered his lips back down to Dean’s neck, biting and kissing at his neck and jaw.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Dean?” he breathed in his ear.

Dean shuddered and nodded. There was still a part of him that couldn’t believe he was doing this, but all that really mattered to him right now was how much he wanted Crowley inside him.

He let go of Dean’s wrist with one hand, bringing it down to tease suddenly lube-covered fingers over his hole. He slowly slid one finger inside and Dean’s free hand shot up, gripping Crowley’s shoulder in a death grip. After a minute of slowly moving his finger inside him and listening to his beautiful moans, he added another.

“I know you can be louder than that, Dean,” he purred.

Dean let out a shout as his fingers suddenly slammed into his prostate.

“Good boy.” He repeated the action a couple more times.

“Crowley! Fuck me!”

Crowley groaned, speeding up his actions, hitting hard and causing Dean to squirm beneath him. “Are you going to respect me?” he hissed.

“Yes!” He would say anything at this point, and the problem was, Crowley knew that.

“What do you have to say about everything I did to help you?” He continued thrusting, harder still.

“Thank you! Just please, Crowley.”

Crowley shuddered at hearing him beg. He wanted to push it farther, to drive his point home completely, but he wanted Dean just as badly as he wanted him. He withdrew his fingers, causing Dean to moan at the loss, and coated his cock with the lube that he was materializing. He released Dean’s other wrist as well, using both his hands to grip his hips as he thrust into him with a loud groan.

Dean shouted in a combination of pleasure and pain as Crowley filled him. Crowley gave him a moment to adjust, marveling at his tightness, but he couldn’t stay still very long. Dean felt so amazing surrounding him and he needed friction. He began moving within him at a fast pace, drawing grunts and groans from them both.

Crowley’s hands slid up over Dean’s chest, one hand moving up to grip his hair tightly while the other pinched his nipple. Dean gripped Crowley’s hips tight enough to leave bruises, had he been human.

“Fuck, Crowley!” Dean shouted as Crowley slammed into his prostate particularly hard. “Just like that!”

Crowley pushed himself up and grabbed hold of Dean’s legs, wrapping them around himself to get a better angle, shuddering and moaning loudly at the change. Dean attempted to grab hold of his own neglected cock before Crowley slapped his hand away with a growl. The human whimpered, but Crowley gripped his cock firmly and began pumping his fist in time with his thrusts. 

They were both steadily growing louder. “Oh god!” Dean shouted. “I’m-“

“Don’t you dare,” Crowley growled, gripping hold of the base of his cock. 

“Crowley-!”

“Show that you respect me, Dean.”

Dean whimpered slightly, his grip on Crowley tightening as he attempted to pull him closer. Crowley continued to thrust into him roughly before he came with a groan, releasing his hold on Dean and allowing him to come as well. Cum flowed over his hand and Dean’s stomach as the human moaned at finally being able to release.

Crowley sighed and pulled out of him, rolling off to the side and collapsing on his back. “Well, that wasn’t how I had expected that to go.”

Not knowing what to say, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened, Dean hesitated before rolling onto his side and draping an arm over Crowley’s waist. He leaned in, pressing his lips to his jaw.

Crowley froze momentarily before wrapping an arm around Dean. “I thought you were straight?” he asked with a smirk.

Dean groaned and buried his face in the demon’s shoulder. “I am.”

“Then you must have a different definition from the rest of the world.” His hand slid down and squeezed his ass teasingly.

“This is a one-time deal, it’s not like it means anything.”

“Right…” he muttered skeptically. He, at least, didn’t want this to be a one-time deal. He had enjoyed himself far more than he had anticipated.

They were both silent for a few moments before Dean spoke again softly. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Letting me stay here, giving me a distraction.”

He chuckled softly. “Go to sleep, Dean. If you’re thanking me, you’re obviously sleep deprived.”

“I don’t want to,” he muttered.

“And why not?”

For whatever reason, and maybe it was sleep deprivation, Dean felt like being honest. “I’ll have nightmares about today, I know it.”

Crowley hesitated for barely a second before he placed a finger on Dean’s forehead. “There, now you’ll have a night of dreamless sleep.”

Dean looked up at him in surprise and suspicion. “At what cost?”

“Let’s just say you’ve already paid it. Now go to sleep.”

Dean smiled slightly, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s shoulder before he buried his face against him once again and fell asleep.


	2. Whatever Makes You Feel Better

Crowley kept his promise and Dean had a night of dreamless sleep, sleeping better than he had in a very long time. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time that he had woke up feeling so content. At least, he felt content until he realized that he was laying in the arms of the most powerful demon that he knew. What the fuck had he done? He slowly removed his arm from around Crowley, attempting to roll away from him.

“You’re not trying to sneak out on me, are you?” Crowley asked, looking down at Dean with a vaguely amused expression.

Dean sighed. “Like there’s anyway that would work,” he muttered, rolling onto his back and glaring up at the ceiling.

Crowley chuckled and leaned in to press his lips to Dean’s jaw, causing the human to stiffen. “What’s wrong?” he murmured, trailing his lips up to his ear. “You didn’t mind last night.”

“I was drunk,” he growled.

“You weren’t that drunk.” He slide a hand down over his chest. “Actually, you were quite amazing.”

That caused Dean to turn his head towards him in surprise, which was exactly what he wanted. Crowley captured his lips with his, kissing him fiercely. Dean didn’t return the kiss, but he also didn’t push him away. Crowley smirked as he pulled away. “How about you get yourself cleaned up and I’ll make us some breakfast?”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, you are covered in cum. I figured you’d want a shower.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “You’d better be a good cook.” He slid out of bed and walked across the room to the bathroom.

Crowley smiled to himself as he cleaned himself up with a snap of his fingers and put on a robe before making his way to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what was compelling him to make breakfast, apparently he still felt like being nice to the hunter in his bathroom. He worked on making bacon and eggs while Dean worked on scrubbing himself in the shower.

After a rather long shower, Dean stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He still didn’t know what Crowley had done with his clothes, but that concern flew out of his mind as soon as he caught his reflection in the mirror. His neck and collarbone were covered in large, very noticeable hickeys.

“Crowley!” Dean growled as he stormed out of the bathroom to find that the demon had already reentered the room with a tray of food. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at Dean’s outburst. “What the hell?!” he demanded, motioning to his neck.

“What? I think you look quite nice covered in my marks.”

“I can’t turn up at Lisa’s looking like this!”

“Why not? Don’t want to admit to her that you enjoy sleeping with demons in your spare time?” Dean just glowered at him. “Relax, they will fade. You are welcome to stay here until they do, if you want.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds like a horrible idea.”

Crowley shrugged. “I think it sounds fun.” He smirked as he set the tray down on the bed.

“Sounds to me like I’ll keep getting more and end up having to stay longer,” he muttered.

“I might be able to hold myself back.”

Dean eyed him suspiciously for a moment before deciding. “As soon as they fade, I’m out of here.”

“Sure you are. Now are you going to eat or not?”

“I’d like to get dressed first.”

“How unfortunate.” He snapped his fingers and Dean was once again wearing the clothes he had arrived in. “Better?”

“Thanks.” He climbed back onto the bed and grabbed a piece of bacon off of one of the plates. “You make breakfast in bed for everyone you sleep with?”

“Not really,” Crowley admitted as he sat down beside him and started in on his eggs.

“Why me, then?”

“Because you’re pathetic.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and Crowley realized that he actually believed him. He looked down at his food, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt weird about that. Surely it wasn’t _guilt_ that he was feeling, but he didn’t know what else it could be. He took another bite of his food to keep from admitting that that wasn’t true.

“Well, I have stuff to do,” Crowley said once they had finished eating and he had cleaned up. “I’m a very busy demon, after all. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“It goes against everything I believe to let you just go about your business.”

“But you said that you’re going to stop hunting, so it’s not your job to stop me.” Before Dean could protest, he grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss, vanishing immediately after.

Dean cursed himself silently for wishing the kiss had lasted longer before making his way to the living room and collapsing on the couch.

 

* * *

 

 

Crowley had had a very long day. With Lucifer gone Hell was in shambles and he was taking it on himself to put it back together. Of course, he was doing it for his own personal gain – he had been Lilith’s second in command, and it only made sense for him to be king now. The problem was, most demons had been supporters of Lucifer and now he had to fight to bring them over to his side. He had a few supporters, but he needed more before he could make any kind of difference.

He walked into the apartment, his mind going in so many directions that he didn’t spare a thought for Dean – at least, until his saw him sitting on the couch, masturbating while watching porn. Crowley smirked as he snuck up behind him and pressed his lips to his ear. “Trying to reassure yourself of your sexuality?” he purred before kissing his jaw.

Dean, already so close to orgasm, came with a gasp, his head arching back into Crowley.

Crowley’s smirk grew wider. “I guess that’s not working too well.” He hopped over the back of the couch, settling beside Dean who had turned a glare on him. “What?” he asked innocently.

“That was just bad timing.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.” He glanced at the TV for a few seconds before leaning closer to Dean. “But I can do so much more for you than she could.”

“I doubt it,” Dean growled through clenched teeth.

Crowley arched an eyebrow skeptically. “Excuse me? Did you hear yourself last night?”

Dean blushed.

“Tell me I wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had.”

His blush only deepened and he turned away without a word, giving Crowley all the answer he needed. He smirked and pressed his lips to his neck. “That’s what I thought.”

Dean’s hand shot out rather suddenly and he grabbed hold of the remote, clicking the TV off before he turned his attention to the demon, pushing him back to lay down on the couch. “And yet you’re the one who keeps bringing it up,” he snarled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was the best sex _you’ve_ ever had.”

Crowley allowed Dean to push him back, smiling an amused smile. “I’m not denying anything. You exceeded my expectations, Dean Winchester.”

Dean stared at him in surprise for a moment. Despite what he’d said, he hadn’t expected that it was true – after all, Crowley had been around for a while and had surely been with quite a few people. Once again, he came to a quick decision that wasn’t necessarily a good one. He climbed on top of the demon and kissed him fiercely. Crowley immediately returned the kiss, his hands coming up to grasp Dean’s short hair. They kissed until Dean needed to pull back for some air, but then he quickly turned his attention to his neck. Crowley moaned, tilting his head back, until he felt Dean’s teeth scrape against his skin. His hand shot to Dean’s throat, gripping tightly and pushing him back.

“What the hell?” Dean gasped as best he could.

_“You_ do not get to mark _me,”_ Crowley snarled.

“It serves you right!”

“I’m a demon – I don’t care.” He released his throat, though he continued to glare. “Try that again and I won’t respond so nicely.”

Dean sighed but relented, pressing just his lips to Crowley’s neck.

 

* * *

 

 

It lasted a week. One week of Dean pretending that sex with Crowley wasn’t the best thing he’d ever experienced, and yet continuing to do it anyway. One week of Crowley teasing and insulting Dean, and yet ensuring that he didn’t have nightmares and had everything that he needed. At the end of the week Dean walked into the living room to see Crowley sitting on the couch reading a book with a Latin title that he couldn’t read.

“I’m leaving,” he announced.

Crowley looked up in surprise, trying to ignore the clenching of his stomach. He forced a small smile. “Just because I’m reading a book instead of fucking you? That’s little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “No, I’m going to Lisa’s, just like I said I was going to from the beginning.”

“You really think that you’ll be able to live happily with her after all we’ve done?”

“Yes. For one, I don’t hate her and don’t have to fight the urge to kill her every time I see her.”

Well, that hurt more than he would ever admit. “Fine then. Go. I’m not stopping you. Don’t know why you even felt the need to announce it.” He turned back to his book.

Dean hesitated before walking around to stand in front of him. “I want to thank you…”

“For helping you realize that you’re bisexual? My pleasure,” he muttered without looking up.

Dean snatched the book from him and tossed it over his shoulder. “For helping me.”

Crowley sighed. “If you’re looking for a touching moment complete with a hug, you’re not getting it. You might as well leave.” He looked at Dean coldly, something that caught the human off guard a bit – he hadn’t look at him like that in a while.

“Fine,” he eventually muttered before turning and walking out the door.

Crowley watched him with a glare that slipped away the second the door closed between them. He was being ridiculous, but that knowledge didn’t stop him from hurting. He had actually began to grow quite fond of the elder Winchester, had even forgotten that he had never been intending to stay with him. Oh well, it wasn’t like it mattered. He was becoming the king of Hell, and he had a kingdom to rule.


	3. Keep Pretending

As much as Crowley missed Dean (though he would never admit it), he had his hands full with Hell. Of course, he did stay posted on what the Winchester was up to, learning the moment he reunited with his brother and started hunting again. After that, it became even easier to keep an eye on him, as Sam was working for him without realizing it. He knew he would probably have a reunion with his past lover sooner or later, and he was looking forward to it more than he would admit. What he hadn’t expected was for it to be with Dean holding a lighter over his bones, threatening to kill him.

In all honesty, Dean was reluctant to kill the demon who had been there for him when he had needed it, despite how much he knew it should be done, but he was determine to act the part. And he did manage to convince everyone, Crowley included, who decided that if Dean wanted to pretend that nothing had happened between them, then he could too. He refused to admit that he felt betrayed – simply pretending that he hated him just as much as he hated every other hunter. He pretended not to feel hurt every time Dean made a move against him, pretended to find it easy to try to kill him, pretended not to mourn when he was sent to Purgatory, and pretended not to feel relief when he came back in one piece. Eventually, though, he needed the hunter’s help and he couldn’t pretend any longer.

“What’s the matter, Dean?” he asked as he rode shotgun in the hunter’s Impala on the way to Missouri. He had managed to get him to agree to help him find the First Blade in order to kill Abaddon, the bitch who was trying to take over Hell, but naturally, the hunter seemed less than thrilled about it. “It almost seems like you don’t want to be alone with me.”

Dean’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. He wanted to just pretend that Crowley wasn’t there, to not think about him at all, but that was rather difficult when he kept talking. “Well, you are a demon. And in case you didn’t notice, I hunt demons.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed,” he muttered, glaring out his side window. “But it’s not like we’ve had sex or anything,” he pointed out, turning back to him. The words had just kind of slipped out, but he didn’t regret them. It felt good to finally say something about it.

Dean blanched, the car swerving into the other lane momentarily.

“Watch it!” Crowley cautioned.

“Then don’t say stuff like that!” Dean shouted as he regained control of the car.

“I’m just stating a fact. We may pretend like it never happened, but that doesn’t change the fact that it did.”

“Well, I’d prefer we keep pretending, if you don’t mind.”

Crowley was silent for a few moments, torn between shouting that he did mind and saying that he couldn’t agree more. “Why?” he finally asked.

“Well, for starters, you’ve tried to kill me-“

“You tried to kill me first!” To Crowley’s horror, some of the pain he felt slipped into is voice and he turned away from him again.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath at his tone, unsure if he was interpreting him correctly, and even less sure if he wanted to be right. “That was for Bobby,” he muttered quietly.

Crowley looked back over at him, not sure what to say to that. “Well, it still wasn’t appreciated.”

“And what? It hurt your feelings?” Dean had meant for his voice to sound more accusing, but instead it came across as a question.

Crowley forced a laugh. “Right. You really think that you could have that effect on me?” Yes.

“Of course not,” Dean sighed. “I’m just trying to figure out where you’re going with this.”

“I’m just saying that I was perfectly justified in trying to kill you because you tried to kill me first.”

“Right,” Dean muttered.

They spent the rest of the car ride in a rather awkward silence, both lost in their thoughts. Crowley was trying to blame his feelings for Dean on his current addiction to human blood; the problem with that theory was, they weren’t exactly recent, the blood just made them harder to deny. Dean’s mind was reeling with everything Crowley had said – he had almost sounded, well, like there was another reason that Dean trying to kill him bothered him other than just his sense of self-preservation. One thing was for sure, pretending was almost out of the question after this.

“I’ll find the blade and bring it to its new owner,” Crowley said a few hours later, after an interesting confrontation with Cain. He was about to disappear before Dean spoke.

“Crowley… how about you be honest for once?” Crowley turned towards him with raised eyebrows. “When I left, you seemed like you couldn’t care less… was that an act?” He couldn’t believe he was asking, but he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Fine. I may have grown a bit – attached to having you around. You were a good fuck, but that doesn’t mean it was anything more than that.”

“That’s not a real answer.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you in a car – there’s no telling when you’re going to swerve into the other lane and get yourself killed. And I need you alive.” He knew it was a lame excuse, but it was the best he could come up with.

Dean turned into a parking lot, pulling into a space and turning off the car. Crowley looked up at the motel in front of them. “Classy.”

“Shut up.” Dean climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and Crowley followed after him. “I need a room for the night,” he said when he reached the front desk.

“One bed or two?” the man asked.

Dean hesitated for a split second. “One.”

“Well, aren’t you confident?” Crowley commented after Dean had gotten the key and turned back to him. A small part of him wanted to leave just to piss Dean off, but he was far too excited about where this might be going.

“I never said that you’re staying the night. We just need to talk.”

Crowley rolled his eyes as he followed Dean to the room without a word, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to say. As the door shut behind him, he walked over and laid down in the middle of the bed.

“Really?” Dean asked.

“I’m just making myself comfortable.”

“Yeah? Well, scoot.” Crowley moved over and Dean sat down beside him. “You used me today.”

“I knew you could handle it. But come on, Dean, that’s not what you really want to talk about. Why don’t you just say it? You miss me.” He may be unsure on whether or not he really wanted to talk about this, but that was all the more reason for him to take control of the conversation, turning it around on Dean.

“Missing you and missing the sex are two different things.”

“I never said they weren’t.” He looked over at Dean for a second before leaning in and kissing him briefly, hoping that giving into the temptation would make this conversation easier. “There’s a reason you agreed to help me today. As much as you try to deny it, you like my company.”

Dean leaned slightly closer, following Crowley’s lips as he pulled back so that his lips hovered millimeters away from the demon’s. “And there’s a reason you asked me to come, and it wasn’t just because you knew I could get the Mark of Cain.”

“Wishful thinking, perhaps.” He pushed Dean back and rolled on top to straddle him, smirking broadly down at him. “But you do look so gorgeous beneath me.”

Dean grabbed Crowley by the tie and yanked him roughly down until their lips collided. A slight groan escaped the demon as he kissed Dean fiercely, his hands pulling at his shirt. His lips left Dean’s, kissing along his jaw and neck as he began unbuttoning his shirt. Oh, this was far better than talking about their feelings

“I know you can get our clothes off faster than this, Crowley,” Dean muttered.

“You’re so bossy,” Crowley chuckled, but snapped his fingers, causing both of their clothes to disappear. His lips immediately moved to Dean’s bare chest, his tongue flicking over his nipple and causing him to moan. “Please tell me you haven’t been with any other men since me.”

“Well…” Crowley’s head snapped up, his expression both angry and incredulous. Dean noticed and immediately began to backtrack. “It doesn’t really count, though. It was in Purgatory.”

“Who the hell did you…? Castiel?” Crowley growled. He shouldn’t be surprised by that, but he had really hoped that the infatuation was only on Castiel’s part. All those times he had mentioned Dean during the time that they were working together, Crowley had really just wanted to shout at him that he was the one who had slept with him – the only thing that stopped him was that he knew that Dean would want to keep it a secret.

“No. No! A vampire… Benny.”

Crowley raise his eyebrows, calming down a bit. “A vampire? Really? If you were into your blood being sucked, you could have just said.” With that, he bit down just above Dean’s collarbone, hard enough to draw blood. Dean gasped as Crowley grabbed his shoulder tightly and began lapping up his blood. Crowley moaned – human blood really better served his addiction when it was injected, but this still had a decent impact on him. He eventually drew back and looked up at Dean smugly. “Is that what you like, Dean?”

Dean reached up and ran a hand though Crowley’s thin hair. “I’m not going to say no.”

Crowley pressed his lips to Dean’s briefly. “So is your little vampire still in Purgatory?”

“Yes.” He didn’t need to go into the details.

“Good.” 

“Why? Are you jealous?” The idea of Crowley being jealous over him made him grin.

“Possessive, there’s a difference.”

He reached down, wrapping his hand firmly around Dean’s cock. Dean arched off the bed with a groan, his hands shooting up and he grabbed hold of Crowley’s waist with one while the other wrapped around the back of his neck. He distinctly remembered the last time he had attempted to mark Crowley, but now he wanted to for different reasons – and if he let him, then that would as good as confirm a theory that was forming in the back of his mind. He pulled the demon down, kissing his neck before he bit down. Crowley groaned, grinding his hips down against him. Dean sucked in a sharp breath before repeating the action. 

“Fuck, Dean,” Crowley groaned, stroking his cock faster.

Dean groaned, thrusting up into his hand. “Yes, I do wish you would.”

He released his cock, covering his fingers with lube before he thrust two slick fingers into Dean’s tight hole. Dean gave a shout, grabbing hold of Crowley’s cock and pumping in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Crowley groaned and began pumping harder and faster, adding another finger after a minute. 

Dean moaned, arching off the bed. “Crowley!”

Crowley bent down and pressed his lips to Dean’s chest before biting down. Dean released Crowley’s cock and reached around him to dig his fingers into his back. Crowley continued biting along Dean’s chest as he pumped is fingers into him.

“Tell me how much you missed this,” Crowley growled between bites.

“Fuck!” Dean called out as Crowley’s fingers hit his prostate. “I missed this,” he gasped.

“No one can fuck you like I can.”

“Maybe you should get on with it and prove that.”

Crowley growled, pulling his fingers out and bringing his hand up to wrap around Dean’s throat. “Or maybe I should leave you wanting until you admit that your little Purgatory fling doesn’t come close to comparing to me.” Yeah, so maybe he was jealous, and he had never been one for handling jealousy well.

Dean just smirked, meeting Crowley’s eyes in a challenge. “I don’t know… you seem to be slacking right now.”

Crowley’s hand tightened in warning as he ground down against Dean, rubbing their cocks together.

Dean groaned. “Prove it,” he repeated.

“Admit it!”

“What if it’s not true?”

“Is it?” Crowley hissed.

Dean looked away, and though Crowley would never admit it, he got a bit nervous. Suddenly, Dean grabbed Crowley by the back of the head and pulled him into a deep kiss. Crowley moaned against Dean’s lips as he returned the kiss. By the time Crowley pulled away, Dean was surprised just how much the kiss had increased his arousal, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fuck me,” he breathed.

“Say it,” Crowley ordered, though he was already applying lube to his cock.

“Crowley…” Dean sighed, pressing his hips up against him desperately. “No one compares to you.”

Without further ado, Crowley thrust into him with a deep groan, and Dean gave a shout of pleasure, his back arching off the bed. Crowley set a fast, rough pace that satisfied the desperation that Dean wasn’t alone in.

“Oh, Dean,” Crowley groaned. “You feel so bloody amazing.”

Dean grasped Crowley’s ass with one hand, pulling him closer, while the other cupped the back of his head, pulling him down to bite and suck on his collarbone. Just the effect he was having on the King of Hell made him feel amazing, and with Crowley’s actions on top of that, he was quickly sent over the edge. He came with a groan, and Crowley followed suit a few thrusts later.

Crowley sighed as he rolled off of Dean, onto his back. “Fuck, it’s been too long,” he sighed.

Dean turned his head to the side on his pillow to look at him. “Since you’ve had sex in general? Or was that statement exclusive to me?”

Crowley gave a small grin. “It was just you.”

“So… are you staying?”

“I thought you indicated that I wasn’t invited to stay the night? We just needed ‘to talk.’”

“Well, that was before we had sex… again.”

“So this really wasn’t your intent, then?”

“No.”

“Hmm…” Crowley hummed thoughtfully. Dean had almost acted like this had been his intent, and maybe a part of Crowley had hoped that it was, for more reason than one. There was the obvious reason that he wanted sex, and then there was the added benefit of knowing that Dean wanted him without having to have an awkward conversation about their feelings. But whether that had been the main goal or not, it had clearly worked out, and Dean clearly wanted him.

“You can stay if you want,” Dean continued.

Crowley met his eyes. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I’m open to it.”

“But do you want me to, Dean?”

Dean sighed. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll stay.” He rolled over to his side and reached out to wrap his arms around Dean, pulling his body against his. Habits from his week living with Dean still ingrained in him, he brushed his fingers lightly over Dean’s forehead to prevent him from dreaming. “Goodnight, Dean,” he said softly, and Dean was out before he could manage a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might make some short stories on what is going through their heads during some of their encounters while they're pretending. Won't be until after I finish this, though, so it depends on how this goes and if I still feel up to it.


	4. Just Wondering

The first thing that Dean was aware of upon waking up was that he was alone, and it took him a minute to remember why that was so disappointing. Right, Crowley. Damn, he was an idiot. He had tried so hard to get that week spent with the demon out of his head, to get rid of any lingering feelings that it had caused, and then he had gone and thrown it all away. And what had come of it? Crowley was probably somewhere laughing that he had the infamous hunter wrapped around his finger. Nothing good was ever going to come of this.

Dean rolled into a sitting position with a groan. He was sore, ashamed of himself, and honestly hurt that Crowley had just left while he was sleeping. He was about to get up when a folded piece of paper on the nightstand caught his eye. He picked it up to see a note written on it.

Gone to search for the blade. I’ll be in touch.  
x Crowley

Dean grinned at the note in spite of himself, putting it with his stuff before heading to the shower. Maybe it would all work out… doubtful, but he could hope.

Despite Crowley’s note with the promise to be in touch, weeks passed with no word from the demon. Dean began calling him, admittedly a bit worried. Sam poked fun at him over how often he was leaving voicemails for the King of Hell, but he just insisted that he needed to get the First Blade so he could kill Abaddon. Really, though, Sam had a point with his teasing – he just wanted to know that Crowley was okay.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he finally got a voicemail from the demon. Although, it wasn’t exactly reassuring. He was obviously drunk, and not much could be understood aside from Dean’s name. The next day, he got another, this one was a bit more coherent, and Dean couldn’t help but listen it several times over.

“Dean… I-I have to talk to you…. You’re important… I mean, this is important…. Well, so are you… important and sexy and… and… brave. But stupid!... You-you don’t even know that I like you, do you? Well, I do…. We’re like Romeo and Juliet with a-a forbidden romance… and I just want to make things right, you know? Me… you… it’s…” For a few moments it was impossible to make out what he said, no matter how hard Dean tried. “I named my hell hound Juliet for you…. Oh, Dean… miss you… want to fuck you…. You deserve better, though… I don’t know why you hate yourself… I’m way worse…. Please don’t leave me Dean, I need you, I-” And with that, the voicemail clicked off.

It was still a few more days before Dean actually managed to answer one of Crowley’s phone calls. He still didn’t sound good, and he said that he was in a jam and needed help. Worried, Dean found out where he was, and he and Sam went to his hotel room. Dean shouldn’t have been surprised when he found two dead bodies, one guy drained of blood in the closet and one woman lying dead on the living room floor – Crowley was a demon, after all. Still, Dean felt a sick feeling rising in his stomach at the sight and he wondered once again what the hell he was doing.

“He had better know where the blade is,” Sam muttered as they took in the sight. “Because we need to get it and kill him with it.”

Dean looked away without commenting. He knew that Sam was right, these people, whoever they may be, were dead because of Crowley. But Dean still didn’t want anything bad to happen to the demon.

They looked up at the door as Crowley entered, holding a rather suspicious looking paper bag in one hand. And the truth came out. Crowley was addicted to human blood because it made him feel human. The boy in the closet had been used for blood, and the woman on the ground was a demon that Crowley had been relying on to help him, but had turned on him. Oddly enough, what bothered Dean the most about the story was that Crowley had turned to this Lola rather than to him. Well, that and the fact the she might have told Abaddon about the First Blade, so now they had to worry about finding it before she did.

They brought Crowley back to the bunker to detox, and so that they could find out what he knew. Dean helped Sam get Crowley set up in the dungeon, then left Sam to get information from him, hardly giving Crowley a second glance. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was hurt and he didn’t think that he could stand to be in the same room with him at the moment.

“Where’s Dean?” Crowley eventually asked in the middle of explaining to Sam how he had tracked the blade.

Sam looked up from his laptop, his eyes narrowing at the demon. “That’s not your concern.”

“Seeing as he’s the one I need to kill Abaddon, I think it is.”

“He’s fine, and that’s all you need to know. Now-"

“He didn’t want to be here for my interrogation?”

“No, he doesn’t want to be anywhere around you, and neither do I, but one of us had to do this.”

Crowley looked down, trying to keep the hurt out of his eyes. Of course, he had been stupid to think that one night had changed anything. He looked around the plain dungeon room that he had once been too familiar with, casting around for something to get his mind off Dean.

“You could have at least added some throw pillows,” he muttered.

“Crowley, focus!”

Crowley sighed as he continued on with the story of the blade, but his mind was elsewhere. Why was he so hung up on Dean? He was the bloody King of Hell, and he had a weak spot for the most deadly hunter there was. Was it just because of the human blood? He wanted to say yes, but somehow he knew that wasn’t true. He liked Dean Winchester, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t change that.

However, it seemed that Dean didn’t want anything to do with him, unless it was just a good, meaningless fuck on occasion. Who would have thought that Crowley would be the one of them that wanted more? He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he knew that he wanted more than just sex. But how was he supposed to admit that to Dean? All he could think of that he could do right now was do everything he could to help them. Unfortunately, that meant that he would probably have to warm up to Sam too. He wasn’t too fond of the younger Winchester who was always more than willing to stick his knife in him, but if he wanted Dean, he would have to get close to Sam.

Eventually, Dean walked back into the room, his eyes lingering on Crowley for a moment before settling on Sam. “We just going to sit here all day, or do we have something?”

“I think I know who we need to get in contact with,” Sam said, getting to his feet.

“Good. Let’s get on it.” Without another look at Crowley, he turned and began to walk out, Sam right behind him.

“Dean,” Crowley called after him.

Dean stopped, turning his head slightly without really looking at him “What?”

“I can help.”

“We’ll see.” He continued walking, closing the door behind them.

“I don’t like his interest in you,” Sam muttered once the door was shut.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

“He was asking about you, and you’re always the one he wants to talk to.”

Dean turned away slightly to hide a grin that he couldn’t suppress. “Well, I am the one with the Mark,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah, I guess. I still don’t like it, though.”

Dean quickly changed the subject back to the blade, and they came up with a plan that actually did involve Crowley. They ended up tracing the blade back to a former Men of Letters member. Getting it could have gone better – he had wanted to add Dean to his collection, and the only reason they got out was because Crowley freed Dean while Magnus was distracted by Sam.

As they walked back to the Impala, Crowley was feeling quite good about everything. If it hadn’t been for him, the Winchesters wouldn’t have succeeded. Surely that earned him some favor with them. But then he heard Sam’s words to Dean.

“We said that Crowley was only useful until we got the blade,” he said in an undertone. “We have the blade.”

‘We said…’ The words echoed in Crowley’s mind – Dean had agreed about that. Well, it looked like he couldn’t count on anyone. He sprang into action, pinning them both against the car, causing Dean to drop he blade.

Dean’s eyes widened as his back slammed against the Impala. What was Crowley doing? Did he really think that he was going to kill him? He was going to have to come up with some excuse for Sam, but he wasn’t going to hurt him. He watched Crowley grab the blade, saying how he couldn’t trust them, and then disappear, a sick feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t believe that he was feeling bad for making a demon feel betrayed, but he was.

“Great,” Sam muttered. “We still don’t have the blade.”

“We’ll get it back,” Dean said, walking around to get into the driver’s seat. “We just need to find Abaddon.”

As soon as they got back to the bunker, Dean threw himself into research, desperate to find the knight. Days passed with nothing to show for it, and Sam wasn’t much of a help. He even went off on a hunt, and Dean didn’t get why he couldn’t see that finding Abaddon was a priority. And now he was on his own, running low on beer, and the words on the paper in front of him were starting to blur together.

He sighed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, not thinking much about his actions as he pulled up Crowley’s name and pressed call. A moment after he did that, he wondered what the hell he thought he was doing. Crowley was mad at him and thought he couldn’t trust him, so why would he want to help him? He hung up and got to his feet, deciding to just go to the bar instead.

Crowley, meanwhile, was in a meeting with a demon. The irritation he felt at his phone ringing immediately disappeared as soon as he saw who the caller was. He may have hung up before he got a chance to answer, but he had still called.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this meeting short,” he said, looking back up at the demon with a slight smile. “More important matters have risen.”

He appeared behind Dean in time to hear him telling Sam that he was busy trying to find Abaddon. He chuckled to himself as he rested his head on the back of Dean’s seat. “You’re lying to Sam like he’s your wife… which, kind of makes me your mistress.”

Dean sucked in a breath at the familiar voice, looking around at the demon and hating how happy he was to see him. “Seriously?”

“Well, you have to admit, there is a resemblance.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he stood up, walking over to the pool table, more to have something to do than because he actually wanted to play. “What do you want?” he muttered as he set it up.

“You tell me, Romeo. You rang. Let me guess – you butt-dialed me?”

“Whatever the hell that is,” Dean muttered, keeping up his usual pretense before sighing. He finally looked up at Crowley, meeting his eyes. “Didn’t think you would come.”

Crowley walked closer, resting his hand on Dean’s hip. “Did you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s have a drink.” He smirked and walked over to the bar, taking a seat and ordering them both a drink.

A moment later, Dean sat in the seat to his right. “You know, you didn’t have to take the blade,” he muttered.

Crowley looked at him, raising his eyebrows. “Well, I never know when you’re going to try to kill me. It has happened before.”

“For Bobby,” Dean nearly growled. “Besides, I knew you would concede.”

“How sweet,” Crowley muttered, looking away.

“Look, Sam is the one who thinks we should kill you, not me.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t care if you believe it or not,” Dean sighed.

“Right.” Crowley muttered. “Anyway, why are you here, Dean? Last time we talked, we agreed that you were going to line up Carrot Top.”

Dean looked away from Crowley, not liking this topic of conversation much better than the last. “Yep, well… I’m on it.”

“Unless Abaddon likes 10-cent wings, stale beer, and the clap, I doubt that she's here. What's going on with you, huh? You call me, you hang up. You want Abaddon, you don't want Abaddon. You want the Blade, you don't want the Blade. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're stalling.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean took a drink of his beer as if that would get him away from this conversation. He didn’t want to talk about this with anyone, especially not the demon that he had the ‘it’s complicated’ relationship with.

But Crowley knew there was something going on, and so he was going to keep pressing the matter. He wanted to help Dean. Sure, he needed him in good form for when he went up against Abaddon, but he also cared about him. “Just between us girls, how did you feel when you sunk the First Blade into Magnus' head?”

“No different from any of the other times I’ve killed people.”

“See, now you’re lying. You know what I think? I think you felt powerful...virile...and afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Don't scam a scam artist, darling. You're stalling 'cause you're scared.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know that Cain gave you his Mark for a reason. And I know that rather than embracing it, rather than looking at it as the gift that it is, you're sulking like you lost your knuffle bunny. Why are you fighting what you really are?”

“I’m a hunter.”

“Who's a chip off the old Mark of Cain.”

“No. When I kill, I kill for a reason. I'm nothing like Cain.”

“Nothing like – who are you talking to? I know you're not talking to me. I saw you. I saw the two of you together. Nothing like Cain? What's in that bottle? Delusion? I'm really starting to worry about you, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, why don't you worry about yourself?” After all, Crowley was the one who was having his demons turn against him – who was number one on the rising queen’s ‘to kill’ list.

“I will. 'Cause like it or not, we're in this together. Your problems, my problems... our problems.” This was going nowhere, and Crowley had had just about enough of it. There was still one more thing that he wanted to figure out tonight, but he knew that he wouldn’t get any honest answers from this conversation. So he had a little experiment planned. He got to his feet and started toward the bathroom.

“Where are you going now?”

“I’m going to go water the lily. Care to cross streams?” He turned and continued walking, signaling to the demon he had sitting a few seats down to spring into action.

It was something that Crowley had been thinking about a lot lately, and when he got the phone call from Dean today, he had made his decision. He needed to know if Dean really did care about him, so he had one of his demons pretending to be a hunter who was going to try to kill him.

Crowley stood next to the door, listening as Dean stopped the demon, persuading him not to pick a fight with him. He smiled as Dean knocked on the door, telling him to hurry up. Dean Winchester had just saved his life (or thought he did, anyway), and that made him even happier than he had anticipated that it would.

A minute later, he met Dean outside the bar. Dean turned to look at him, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Demons don't take leaks. Next time you want to shoot up, why don't you find a better excuse?”

“Guilty as charged,” Crowley lied, deciding not to tell Dean what he had really been up to.

“What happened? I thought you were cleaning up your act.”

“Well, I was going to, but then after very little soul-searching, I decided to embrace my addiction.”

“Yes, because that worked so well last time.”

“Worried about me?”

“I just don’t want you turning to another demon whore who will cause more problems for us.”

“Oh, so it’s jealousy then, is it?”

“Shut up.”

“So, how long is moose out of town for?”

“However long this job takes,” Dean said, arching an eyebrow.

“So you have the place to yourself tonight?”

“Are you trying to get me to invite you over? After you just accused me of wanting to kill you?”

“I would like to apologize for my rude accusation.”

“No, you would like to have sex with me.”

“Well, that too.”

Dean sighed, turning to face him. “Answer me something. What is this to you? Some kind of game? Because if so, I’m done playing.”

“If you think that this is just a game to me, you’re more of an idiot than some of the demons I know.”

“What is it, then?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose I’ll pass on the sex tonight. Call me when you find Abaddon.” He began to turn away.

“Wait,” Dean stopped him. “At least tell me why you turned to that demon that betrayed you. I mean, if you wanted sex…. And you wouldn’t even answer my phone calls.”

Crowley turned back to him with a small smile. “So, it is jealousy. Dean, I was in horrible condition – basically useless. And I was using Lola. You should be flattered that I didn’t want to use you, that I didn’t want you to see me like that.” He abruptly stopped talking, realizing that he had said too much.

Dean breathed in a deep breath. So Crowley really wasn’t just using him, then. “Back to my place then?”

And so an hour later found Crowley breathing hard as he rolled off of Dean. “We have got to stop having these long breaks between sex, it’s killing me.”

Dean laughed. “This time it was your fault.” He rolled over onto his side, reaching out to brush his fingers over one of the marks he had left on Crowley’s neck. “And at least you’ve gotten it elsewhere.”

“Oh, we’re still on this, are we? Would it make you feel any better if I said it was just her?”

“A bit.”

“And I wanted it to be you, it was just what I needed at the time.”

“You seem to be in pretty good shape now for someone who’s still shooting up.”

“I’ve managed to reign myself in – I’m in control of my addiction.”

“That’s something, at least.” He hesitated before bringing up what had been on his mind for far too long now. “When you were all messed up… you left me some voicemails.”

“Did I? I don’t remember much.”

“Well, I was just wondering if you meant what you said….”

“To answer that, I would have to remember what I said.”

“I have it saved,” he muttered as he reached for his phone, dialing his voicemail.

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Must have been quite the message. Do tell me you listened to it in your alone time.”

“Shut up and listen to it,” he said, shoving the phone into Crowley’s hand.

The demon’s eyes grew wide as he listened to the voicemail, unable to believe that he had been stupid enough to confess all of this. “You’re asking me if I have feelings for you?” he asked as he handed the phone back to Dean a minute later.

“Yeah… yeah, I guess so.”

“And the fact that you saved that message tells me that you want me to.”

“I was just curious about it,” he protested half-heartedly. “I mean, it’s not even possible for demons to like someone like that, right? And even if you do, it’s just because of the human blood.”

“If only that were the case,” he muttered with a sigh. “I do like you, Dean. I have for… well, since before I started human blood.”

“Before you started human blood…”

“We were still trying to kill each other. Yeah, I know. It really made life difficult.”

“If you had just said something-"

“You wouldn’t have believed me. I was trying to pretend like I didn’t have feelings for you, the human blood just made that more difficult. So, what’s your excuse for your infatuation with the King of Hell?” 

“Well, there was the denial – a lot of denial – and now here we are.”

“And where is ‘here,’ exactly?”

“It sounds like we’re in kind of the same boat.”

“Would you just say it, Dean? I did.”

Dean sighed. “I like you, okay?”

A second later, Crowley had pulled Dean into a kiss. “Does that mean we’re boyfriends, then?” he asked as he pulled away with an amused grin.

Dean rolled his eyes. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want to have the right to rip out the intestines of anyone who even thinks about sleeping with you, and if that means boyfriend, then sure.”

Dean grinned. “Are you really that easily jealous?”

“That’s me going easy.”

“Ok, well how about we tone it down a bit more to only if they try anything?”

Crowley grimaced. “Fine. But the second your little angel makes a move on you, I want to know.”

“What?! You’re jealous of Cas?”

“With good reason.”

“Look, Cas is not going to make a move on me.”

“We’ll see.”

Dean sighed. “Whatever. You know, this also means no more demon whores for you. Or whores of any kind, for that matter.”

“Fine by me.”

Dean leaned in for another kiss. “Also…” he said as he pulled back. “Sam can’t know.”

“No, no one can know. I can put out the word to the demons that you’re off limits because I need you, but the second they find out the real reason… my rule is in delicate enough balance, as it is.”

“Well, I guess we’re both idiots for going through with this, then.”

“I suppose we both think it’s worth the risk.”

Dean looked over at Crowley, unable to believe that this was the King of Hell, who was putting him above everything else. It was absolutely ridiculous – this entire ordeal was, and there was no way that it could end in anything but disaster. But Dean also knew that there was no way that he wasn’t going to go through with it. Denying his feelings had gotten him nowhere, so now it was time to admit the truth – he liked Crowley and he wanted to be with him, however fucked that made him.


	5. Think About It

"Dean, are you even listening to me?"

Dean's eyes flickered over to his brother, then back to the road. "Of course."

Sam crossed his arms, looking over at Dean with an arched eyebrow. "Then what was I saying?"

"What to do after we kill Abaddon. Personally, I'm thinking a vacation, somewhere-"

"Dean, I'm talking about Crowley."

He turned his head slightly away from Sam, afraid that he would catch something in his expression. It had only been a few nights since Crowley and Dean had decided to brave a relationship, but most of those nights involved the demon appearing in Dean's room unannounced and them both trying desperately to keep quiet enough to avoid being caught. As great as everything was going between them now, Dean didn't dare to hope for anything – after all, he knew just how quickly things could go south.

"Right," Dean muttered.

"Look, we get the blade, we kill Abaddon, and that's all great, but what then? We can't just let Crowley walk away."

"We've done it before."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Are you suggesting we let him go?"

"Look, I'm just thinking about the big picture here. We gank Crowley, and then what? Hell falls apart? No. Demons aren't Leviathan and we can't destroy them by killing the top dog."

"And that means we should let him live?"

"Well, someone is going to take his place. We kill Crowley, and who knows who will come up next. I mean, look at who has ruled Hell in the past – yellow-eyes, Lilith, and now Abaddon's trying – I'll take Crowley over any of them any day."

"I'm not saying I don't see your point, Dean, but it's Crowley. Have we forgotten everything he's done? What he is?"

"Of course not. I just think we need to come up with a better plan before we kill the one demon who seems to value us more alive than dead." He pulled into the cemetery as he spoke. "Now, let's go dig up the First Blade."

Dean was silently cursing Crowley as he and Sam dug up the grave of the body that Crowley had hid the blade inside. He knew that Crowley was keeping an eye on Abaddon, but couldn't he teleport over to the cemetery really fast and have the blade out with a snap of his fingers? And to make matters worse, there was a hellhound that Dean had to call Crowley to get rid of. All in all, he was very glad when he was back in the car and they were on their way to Crowley and Abaddon. He pulled out his phone, dialing Crowley's number as they took off.

"Squirrel. I hope you were nice to your father," Crowley answered after a couple of rings.

Dean glanced at the phone in surprise. Well, that wasn't exactly how he expected his boyfriend to answer the phone. "What? Shut up. Look, we got the Blade."

"You do? Well, you need to get it here at once. Cleveland, Humboldt Hotel. Penthouse, of course. When you get here, I'll take you to Abaddon. I'll draw her out, and then you can skewer the ignorant hag."

"All right, we're on our way." It suddenly dawned on Dean that this would be the first time that Sam would see him with Crowley since they had stopped pretending to hate each other. This was going to be fun.

"Oh, and, Dean, you need to get a move on. It's a good day's drive from Poughkeepsie."

"What are you talking about? We're not even near there."

"Yeah, like I said, you need to leave Poughkeepsie right away."

Dean hung up the phone. Something was definitely up – Abaddon knew they were coming.

"So, we good?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean lied. Sam may not be too happy later, but he knew what he was doing.

Thoughts of killing Abaddon urged Dean on as he drove to the Humboldt Hotel. It was times like this that Crowley's ability to teleport would really come in handy. He just wanted to kill the bitch already. He finally pulled up outside the hotel, sent Sam to look in the basement, then headed up to the penthouse. As he walked into the room, his eyes immediately found Crowley, sitting in a chair and clearly injured.

"Hello, Dean," Crowley greeted him. "Love the crazy bloodlust in your eyes. Let's not waste time. I'll take you to Abaddon. It's not far."

Dean only managed another step before Abaddon came into view and flung Dean against the wall with just a flick of her wrist. His back hit the wall with bruising force and the blade dropped from his hand as the Knight of Hell smiled at him.

"A boy and his Blade. And still no match for the new queen," she said smugly. "So, first... You'll die... Painfully. And then Crowley will watch his son die - ditto - and then the king himself. And Blade destroyed. That's quite a to-do list."

Son…? Dean pushed the thought away. He couldn't deal with that right now. He had the Mark of Cain, for crying out loud, he could feel how powerful he was, he had to be able to beat her.

He could feel the psychic force of her pinning against the wall and he started fighting against it. Suddenly, the blade shot back up to his hand, and he managed to take a step, then another. His eyes were locked on Abaddon, unable to see anything else as his mind was set on the one task – kill her at all costs. He drew the knife back, and then stabbed it into her stomach. He hardly noticed her dying – just felt the satisfaction of sinking the knife into her flesh. And so he stabbed her again, and again, until Sam's voice broke through the haze.

"Dean. Dean! Dean! Stop! You can stop."

Dean dropped the blade and slowly looked up at Sam, unsure of when he got to the room. Then his gaze moved to Crowley, who was looking at him in surprise over his shoulder. After a couple of seconds, he cleared his throat and got to his feet.

"Well done, Dean," Crowley finally broke the silence. "Now, um, how about a hand? The bitch shot be with a bullet with a devil's trap carved into it – said that I have your grandfather to thank for that clever trick."

Sam shot Dean a questioning look, clearly still thinking about killing him, but Dean just held out his hand. "Your knife would probably be better."

Sam sighed and handed him his knife. Dean stooped to pick up the First Blade and slip it back into his jacket (Sam watching him carefully all the while), then walked around Crowley's chair to hold the knife out to him.

"So… what was Abaddon saying about a son?" he asked as Crowley took the blade.

"What?" Sam asked, walking around.

"She said that after I died, she'd kill his son," Dean clarified without looking away from Crowley.

"Suppose you would pick up on that," Crowley muttered under his breath as he started trying to dig the bullet out with the knife. He had never really wanted to tell Dean about his human life, but he knew there was no way Dean would just forget about what Abaddon had said. He continued in a louder voice. "Gavin. He's from when I was human. Abaddon brought him from the past to use him as leverage."

"And?"

"And she tortured him some, and that's when I called you. I may have been horrible to the kid once upon a time, but I wasn't watching him go through that. He's in the other room now."

"Wow," Sam muttered. "That's… surprising."

Crowley rolled his eyes, working at the bullet a bit more before speaking again. "You could at least - aah! - help me with this."

"We didn't kill you, Crowley, even though it would've been very easy. Isn't that enough?" Moose was clearly still rather kill-happy where he was concerned, Crowley noticed. He wondered how Dean had managed to convince him to let him live.

"You owe me. Do I get no credit for warning you this was a trap?" He glanced at Sam to see him just looking at him in confusion. "'Poughkeepsie' ring a bell?" His gaze flickered between the two of them before quickly realizing that Dean hadn't told Sam about his warning. Oops. "I sense drama."

"I just still can't get over the fact that Crowley has a son," Dean changed the subject. Of all the things that he had thought he might find out about his demon boyfriend, him having a son was certainly not one of them. "How's he doing, by the way?"

"How do you think?" Crowley muttered as he finally pulled the bullet out – painfully.

"You get that he's got to go back, right? To his own time?"

No, Dean could not do that. Surely someone as righteous as him wouldn't send his own boyfriend's son back to his own time just to die. "If the lad goes back, his destiny is to board a ship bound for America. That ship went down in a storm. All hands were lost. He had one chance in this world to change his life. You want that to all end in tragedy?"

Dean felt his heart drop slightly. Well, what the hell was he supposed to do now? He knew better than most what the consequences could be of messing with fate. If a day in the life of Death hadn't taught him that, his encounter with Fate herself certainly had. But he couldn't do that to Crowley. "Those are the rules," he said, trying to remain resolute.

"The lore all says the same thing," Sam backed him up. "You change any one thing in the past, the ripple effect impacts everything that follows."

"Please. No one bends the rules like you two bend the rules. He's one misfit kid. He impacts no one."

Dean had a feeling that if Sam hadn't been there, he would have yielded right then, but Sam continued. "You don't bend that rule, okay? You don't. We'll take him back to the bunker, figure out the spell. That's the way it's got to be."

"Can I at least say goodbye?" Sam and Dean both nodded, so he got to his feet, starting back to the room where Gavin was. "I'll cheer the day when the last trace of humanity leaves me. Feelings," he growled. Sure, there were some feelings that he had realized by this point weren't going anywhere – like his feelings for Dean. And he wasn't so sure that he wanted them to, even though it would make his life significantly easier. And now there was Gavin, who he hadn't even cared for that much as a human, so he didn't really understand what was going on now. What he did know was that he had already screwed up enough with his son, and he was not going to let him die. As soon as Crowley was by Gavin's side, he shut the door and disappeared with him.

Sam and Dean rushed for the door, but by the time they got there, they were both gone. "Damn it, Crowley!" Dean shouted, though he was secretly a bit glad that they had gotten away.

When they finally got back to the bunker, Dean went straight for his room and collapsed on his bed. He felt like he should be exhausted, but he wasn't even tired in the slightest. He knew that he should feel drained, but he felt better than ever. And a part of him knew that that should be a red flag, but would rather not worry about that right now, so he was just going to ignore it. So he just stared up at the ceiling, not even looking when he heard footsteps approaching the bed, though no one had come in through the door.

"Are you okay, Dean?"

Now he turned his head to the side, looking at Crowley. "I'm great. How's the kid?"

Crowley tensed slightly. "He's fine. Off on his own – as he should be."

"Relax, I'm not going to ask where he is. You got him away from us – I'm counting that as a loss."

Crowley chuckled slightly as he climbed into bed beside Dean, resting his elbow on a pillow and propping his head up on his hand to look at him. "I didn't think the great Winchesters had losses."

"You know we do."

"Yes, but nothing major. Whoever dies comes back to life and you live on to kill again."

"Yeah, that does kind of sound like my life."

Crowley leaned in and kissed Dean, wrapping a hand around the back of his head as he slid closer, pressing his body against Dean's. Dean sighed into the kiss as he wrapped a hand around Crowley's waist, pressing his hand against his lower back.

Crowley broke away after a minute. "I suppose I should thank you for today."

Dean chuckled. "Nah, that's not really your style. Besides, I don't need to be thanked for killing a demon – it's kind of my job."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, sliding a hand down over Dean's side. "It shows."

Dean eyes widened slightly as he realized what Crowley was getting at. Damn, was he an idiot. He had been thinking that the biggest problem with him and Crowley being together was that Crowley was a demon. He hadn't thought about the fact that, as King of Hell, all other demons were under his command. So every demon he killed was a strike against Crowley.

"You can't expect me to stop killing demons," he said softly.

"Well, not completely. There's plenty of Abaddon supporters out there that I would be more than happy to see done away with. My demons, however, I would prefer to have alive."

Dean's hand dropped from Crowley's back and he pulled away slightly, Crowley's hand falling to the bed as well. "Crowley, it's my job."

"And ruling Hell is my job. It's in delicate enough balance as it is, but if you go about killing off all of my demons-"

"They're demons!"

"So am I!"

Dean took a deep breath. "You're… different."

"True, but as irritating as demons can be, I need them."

"If they hurt people, I kill them – that's the way life works."

"I hurt people… going to kill me now? Or are you waiting until you get your pleasure first?"

"You know that's not what this is about."

"Really? Because that's all it sounds like it could be at this point." Crowley knew that that wasn't the case – that Dean had been honest when he had told him his feelings for him – but he was hoping that he could make him see things differently if he played his cards right. But a large part of him knew it was useless. Dean was right – there was no way that he would ever let his demons live, and Crowley couldn't just stand by as his boyfriend killed them.

"So you're saying that unless I promise not to hurt your precious demons, I'm only in this for the sex?"

Crowley sighed. "No, I'm saying that I don't see how this can work if you run around killing everyone who work for me."

Dean rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling in silence for a minute. "You know, I know you're right, I just don't want to do anything about it."

The corner of Crowley's lips quirked up in a half-smile as he looked down at Dean. It was good to know that he didn't want to give this up, even if there was no hope for them. "You can't be half in and half out, Dean."

"Yeah, I know…." He turned his head to look back at Crowley. "So what am I supposed to do?"

Crowley hesitated a couple of seconds before he got up from the bed, straightening his clothes. Dean pushed himself up slightly, looking at Crowley, clearly worried that he was going to say this was it. "Think about it," he said instead. "Take as long as you need. And call me whenever you've made your decision."

Dean nodded and a second later, Crowley disappeared.

So now Dean just had to figure out a way that he could keep Crowley and while staying true to himself… this was going to be impossible.


	6. Potential Solution

The world was going to Hell all over again (or would it technically be Heaven this time?), and Dean could hardly concentrate because of all the crap going on with Crowley. Maybe that was why he had such a short fuse with the angels he was interrogating (deep down he knew it was really because of the Mark of Cain, he just didn't want to admit that) – but regardless, it certainly wasn't helping. Here he was stuck in a room with a species that he really didn't have the best history with, when all he really wanted to be doing was figuring out a way to make things work with Crowley. Unfortunately, angels nuking each other in Cas's name came before his issues with his demon boyfriend.

And of course, everything ended in disaster. Cas's army left him for Metatron, and they went back to the bunker to find Gadreel, the same angel who had paraded around in Sam and killed Kevin. So could Sam and Cas really blame Dean for attacking him? Apparently, because now here he was, locked in the dungeon, and yacking his guts out from what he now had to assume was the mark.

He had no idea what was happening to him, but he could only assume that he was dying. There was one person who was bound to have some answer, though. Sam had taken his phone from him, but he was pretty sure that he had everything in here that he needed to summon a demon.

Crowley was in the middle of a massage when he felt Dean summon him. For a moment, he couldn't figure out why Dean would summon him when he could have just called, then he realized that this must be his decision. They were back to being hunter and demon, and so Dean was going to call him like one.

Crowley took a deep breath, determined to maintain his composure as he appeared in front of Dean. "What's that smell?" he asked nonchalantly when a smell akin to vomit greeted him.

"What the hell's happening to me?" Dean demanded, scared and not really knowing how to act with everything that was going on between the two of them at the moment. They had agreed that they wouldn't talk again until Dean figured out what he wanted to do, and he still had no idea, but he really needed him right now.

The change in Crowley's expression was instantaneous as he realized that something was wrong. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly as he took a step forward. It couldn't be… could it?

"I can't turn it off! Ever since I killed Abaddon, it's - it's like this whole...other thing. I get this high and I-I-I need to kill. I mean, I really, really need to kill. And if I don't -"

"You yak your guts out," Crowley finished, his mind racing. "It's the mark."

"Meaning?"

"It wants you to kill. The more you kill, the better you feel. The less you kill, the less better you feel."

"How much less better?"

"One would imagine the least-best better." But he wouldn't let that happen. No, and if it was affecting him like this, then maybe the other rumors were true…. He wouldn't dare to hope for it, though – he wasn't sure how he would take being let down.

"So dead? Well, Cain had the mark. He didn't die."

"Cain was a demon. Your body's not strong enough to contain the blade's power."

"What if I got rid of it?"

"You want to get rid of it?" Crowley would never pretend not to be selfish – he was a demon, after all – and if the rumors were true, he wanted Dean to keep the mark long enough to find out. It could solve all their problems, after all.

"What I want is Metatron."

Crowley fought back a smile. "Go on."

"But I have to get through that door, and I have to get to the blade. And you're gonna help me."

"As you wish." He flicked his wrist and the door swung open as he walked up to Dean. "Shall we?"

Dean looked at Crowley, biting his lip. "Look, Crowley-"

"Don't worry about it, Dean. You have a lot going on. We'll figure it out later."

"But where does that leave us?"

The corner of Crowley's mouth turned up slightly before he reached up to cup the back of Dean's head, lowering him into a kiss. Dean melted into it for a moment, then his hand shot out and gripped Crowley's hip tightly, pushing him back against the wall.

Crowley broke the kiss, eyeing Dean with a mixture of curiosity, amusement, and desire. "Are you sure your urge to kill is the only thing your little tattoo is affecting?"

"Shut up," Dean growled, kissing him roughly.

Crowley snapped his fingers then was on the other side of the room. Dean spun around, looking a bit angry, a bit confused, and possibly a bit hurt.

"We need to get out of here before moose comes back, yes?" Crowley pointed out, motioning to the door.

"Yeah," Dean sighed, heading out of the room.

Crowley chuckled at how put out Dean clearly was at the denial. "Maybe later, sweetheart," he said as he drew level with him.

Dean just glanced at the demon out of the corner of his eyes without saying anything, though his expression lifted slightly.

They easily found the box where Sam had stored the First Blade, then set off in the Impala in a random direction.

"Do you know where we're going?" Crowley asked as Dean sped down the road.

"Somewhere where we can stop to track down Metatron."

"A hotel?" he suggested with a smirk.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Is that all you think about?"

"Hey, you're the one who had me up against the wall back there. And don't think I couldn't feel how much you wanted me."

"And here I thought we weren't supposed to be doing anything until I figure out the ultimate secret of a hunter-demon relationship."

"That was the plan, but since the mark seems to be driving you to all things sinful, I might as well help out a bit."

"First we kill Metatron, then we can have sex."

"Is that a promise? I know how fast you Winchesters can change your mind."

Dean made a sharp right turn down a dirt road that was questionably even supposed to be there, and stopped the car, turning to look at Crowley. "Get in the back."

Crowley chuckled. "Always so quick to prove yourself when challenged. I admire that about you."

"Shut up and get in the back."

Crowley flicked his wrist and Dean's seat reclined back. A snap of his fingers and Dean's pants were unzipped.

"What the-?!" Dean started.

"I have other plans."

Dean tried to sit up, but he couldn't. "You're seriously doing this again?"

"With the Mark of Cain there's no telling what you'll do. I have to take precautions."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "You don't really think I'd kill you?"

"No, but you could try to take control of the situation, and that would just ruin my fun." He reached over and pulled Dean's jeans and boxers down, his hand immediately gripping Dean's already semi-hard cock.

Dean gave a low moan, but he was glaring when his eyes found Crowley. "One of these days I'm going to chain you down with my favorite little demon-proof handcuffs, and then you'll be at my mercy."

"Keep dreaming, squirrel." After a few pumps of his fist, coaxing Dean to hardness, Crowley leaned down and took Dean's full length into his mouth.

Dean groaned loudly, yearning to grab hold of Crowley, but he still couldn't move. Crowley moved his mouth along his cock at an agonizingly slow rate, swirling his tongue around the tip briefly before he would go down again. If Dean could, he would grab a fistful of Crowley's hair and show him how to really please him, and the small part of his brain that was still reasonable knew that that was exactly what Crowley was going for.

"This the best you can do?" he gasped out.

Crowley's lips slid off Dean's cock and he looked up at him with a smirk. "Oh, I'm achieving exactly what I want to."

"Thought you wanted to help me."

"And I can't have fun while I'm at it?"

"You're an asshole."

Crowley chuckled, but when his lips once again closed around Dean's cock, he moved at a much faster pace, eliciting many delicious sounds from Dean. It wasn't long before he was coming in his mouth with a shout and Crowley was swallowing it down.

As soon as Crowley pulled back, his hand resting over his own now throbbing cock, Dean was able to sit up again. He pulled his pants up and took a deep breath to collect himself before starting the Impala.

"Dean."

Dean looked over at his boyfriend, who was staring at him with clear desire. His eyes ran down his body to the bulge in his pants, and he smirked. He leaned in and kissed him fiercely.

Crowley moaned into the kiss. Every sound Dean had made had gone straight to his cock, and now he desperately needed some relief of his own. As they kissed, he unfastened his pants and pushed them down with his boxers, wrapping his hand around his cock with a groan.

Dean pulled back at that, drinking in the sight before him before turning to the wheel. "You know what, Crowley? You were a dick to me, and now it's my turn. So thanks, but I have to find Metatron, and I don't have time to waste pleasuring you."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Nope." He put the car in reverse and backed back out to the road before continuing on in the direction he had been going.

"Dean – darling – please – I'm sorry."

Dean glanced at Crowley out of the corner of his eyes to see his eyes locked on him as he slowly pumped his hand along his cock. "And miss out on this? I don't think so. You had your fun, so I'll have mine."

Crowley groaned as he leaned his head back against the headrest, increasing his pace as he accepted that there was no changing Dean's mind.

A few minutes later, Dean pulled into the parking lot of a diner, having listened to, and snuck glances at, Crowley jacking off all the way there.

"You're lucky we didn't get pulled over – that would have been fun to explain."

"Shut – up – I'm almost-"

Dean knocked Crowley's hand away and wrapped his lips around Crowley's cock just before he came. He swallowed it all, then pulled back, licking his lips. "Couldn't have you making a mess," he said with a smirk.

"I fucking hate you."

"No, you don't." Dean chuckled as he got out of the car and headed into the diner, Crowley right behind him.

It wasn't long after Dean ordered his food that some of Crowley's demons showed up with a video of Metatron in Indiana. As soon as Dean saw it, he got to his feet, starting for the door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You're not gonna eat your food?" Crowley asked, motioning to the untouched burger.

"Not hungry," Dean said simply, putting down some money and walking away.

Crowley looked between the burger and Dean, his mind racing. It was really happening, wasn't it? Everything was going to work out. The only problem was, the legend implied that Dean had to die for the process to be complete, and Crowley wasn't sure that he was willing to let that happen.

More than anything, Crowley wanted to stick with Dean to see how this all played out, but of course, Sam just had to show up, and then Dean had to act like he didn't want the demon around. So Crowley was forced to go back to his house and assign a lower demon to keep tabs on the Winchesters. It was a few hours later that the demon reported back to him that Metatron had killed Dean.

What Crowley wasn't prepared for was the way those words affected him. This was probably good – things could get better now – but the thought of Dean being killed hurt more than he had anticipated. For a moment he just hoped vehemently that Sam or Castiel or somebody had killed Metatron, but then he pulled himself together and teleported to Dean's bedroom.

He looked at Dean lying on the bed, apparently dead, but Crowley knew that that was not the case, he could sense the demon before him. He was hardly aware of what he was saying as he spoke to Dean, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. This was going to fix everything, right? Unless Dean hated him for this. He was still Dean, after all. Maybe he'd never want to speak to him again. Maybe he'd just kill him. Well, that'd be one way to find out how he really felt, he thought to himself as he wrapped Dean's hand around the First Blade and laid it on his stomach. At least it'd be over quickly.

"Listen to me, Dean Winchester," he continued. "What you're feeling right now - it's not death. It's life - a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon."

Crowley took a deep breath as his eyes were met with Dean's black ones. He didn't say anything as Dean slowly pushed himself to a sitting position and swung his legs off the side of the bed, facing Crowley, the First Blade still in his hand.

"So," Dean finally spoke. "I'm guessing this was your plan for fixing everything between us."

Crowley swallowed – this was not off to a good start. "More of a… potential solution."

Dean nodded slowly, his eyes returning to their normal green. Oddly enough, Crowley liked that better than the demon black. "Well… are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna do something worthwhile?"

A grin slowly spread over Crowley's face as he took a step closer to Dean, wrapping a hand around to the back of his head. Before he could do any more than that, though, Dean dropped the First Blade and wrapped his fist around Crowley's tie, pulling him roughly into a kiss. It was a few minutes before Dean broke the kiss, and then he was pulling at the buttons of Crowley's jacket, working quickly to get it off.

"Easy there, squirrel," Crowley cautioned, bringing up a hand to stop Dean's. "Your brother will have realized by now that his attempt to summon me failed and he could be coming up here at any second."

"Then let's get out of here." Dean got to his feet, grabbing the First Blade and sliding it into his belt.

"He'll come looking for you, you know. And he won't give up easily."

Dean laughed. "Right. Just like the last time I supposedly died. He went as far as the first slut he found."

"So he's not the most reliable. He's already trying to bring you back – I think this time around might be different."

Dean rolled his eyes before grabbing the nearest piece of paper and writing 'Sammy let me go.' He laid it on the bed and turned back to Crowley. "Can we go now? Actually, let's stop by the garage on the way out – might as well take the car."

"And then where to?"

Dean smirked, closing the distance between himself and Crowley. "You know, as long as it involves you and me and sex, I really don't care."

Crowley chuckled. "Nearest hotel it is." And with that he snapped his fingers and they both disappeared.


	7. What You Wanted

"Dean, are you paying any attention to a word I'm saying?"

Dean reluctantly tore his eyes away from the very sexy bartender, meeting Crowley's gaze with slight irritation. "No," he answered simply.

Crowley sighed, his eyes flickering from Dean to the bartender and back again. "Want me to give you some time alone with her?"

"Well, I would say yes, but something tells me that that will lead to a hissy fit."

"A hissy fit? Really? Because I think it's warranted that I be a little miffed when I have been walking in on my boyfriend in bed with whatever slut he could get his hands on multiple times a week."

"It's not like I haven't invited you to join."

"And that's supposed to make it better? We agreed-"

"When I was human, and that clearly doesn't apply anymore. So, I'm going to go get laid," he continued as he got to his feet. "You can either join or sit there and sulk."

Crowley didn't say anything as he watched Dean walk away. The changes in Dean had been clear from the moment he had woken up as a demon, but Crowley hadn't quite realized the extent of it until a couple of weeks in.

_Crowley's eyes grew wide as he opened the door to his and Dean's hotel room to see his boyfriend straddling some blonde girl that Crowley vaguely remembered seeing his eyes following earlier. A blind rage came over him and as he snapped his fingers, the girl's neck snapped._

_"Son of a bitch," Dean growled, rolling off the now dead woman beneath him and glaring at Crowley. "Was that really necessary?"_

_"I have half a mind to do the same to you."_

_Dean chuckled. "You know you can't kill me."_

_"No, but I can make you wish I could."_

_Dean pushed himself up to a sitting position, leaning forward slightly. "I'd like to see you try."_

_Crowley sighed. "Dean, what's going on with you?"_

_"You mean apart from being a demon, I'm guessing?"_

_"I mean this." He waved his hand at the body beside Dean._

_Dean glanced at her briefly before looking back at Crowley with a shrug. "I was bored."_

_"Bored? As in bored with me?"_

_Dean smirked. "Jealous?" He laughed when all Crowley did was glare. "I just need to change things up a bit on occasion. Relax, Crowley, nothing has changed."_

_"So I'm supposed to be okay with you sleeping around?"_

_"You can too, you know," he said as he got to his feet and began walking towards Crowley. "You said that I'd see things differently as a demon, and you're right. It won't bother me now. Hell, you can even join in." Crowley remained expressionless as Dean reached him and rested his hands on his hips. "But right now, I would just really like to finish." He pushed Crowley back against the wall. "So now I'm just going to have to fuck you."_

_"You fuck me? That's funny-"_

_"You're not in charge here, Crowley. Either you submit, or I'm walking away."_

_Crowley's eyebrows shot up. "I'm the king, and technically, since you are a demon-"_

_"I'm stronger than you. So how about you stop pretending that you don't want this and let me take charge for once."_

_Crowley opened his mouth, still not quite sure what he was going to say, but was saved the trouble of coming up with something as Dean bit down on his neck, making him unable to do more than moan._

_"That's better," Dean purred as he pushed Crowley's jacket off then yanked at his tie._

_Surrendering, Crowley started working at his pants while Dean unbuttoned his shirt, soon leaving him completely naked, pinned between Dean and the wall._

_Dean captured Crowley's lips in a kiss as he wrapped a hand around his cock, urging him to hardness. He pulled away after a couple of minutes and ground his own cock against him._

_"Lube?"_

_Crowley sighed, a large part of him unable to believe that he was letting Dean get away with this, and snapped his fingers, coating Dean's hand in lube. Dean then wasted no time with shoving two fingers inside him._

_Crowley gasped, his fingers digging into Dean's hips. "Fuck, Dean."_

_"I intend to." Dean began pumping his fingers in and out of Crowley, adding a third as soon as Crowley adjusted. "You've never been fucked before, have you?"_

_"I'm king for a reason, darling. You should feel very privileged right now."_

_"Oh, I do." He pulled his fingers out and coated his cock in lube, lining himself up with Crowley's entrance before thrusting with a groan. He set a fast pace that had Crowley moaning and clawing at him even more than usual._

_"Dammit, Dean!" He grabbed Dean's ass, pulling him in closer as his hit his prostate._

_Dean groaned as he began thrusting harder, knowing that he was close, and loving the knowledge that he was going to spill his seed in the King of Hell's ass. He grabbed hold of Crowley's cock again and began pumping at a quicker pace than his thrusts, wanting him to come first. It was only a minute later that Crowley came with Dean's name on his lips and Dean quickly followed suit._

_Dean pulled out of Crowley with a groan. "Now, was that so bad?"_

Crowley hated losing control, but admittedly Dean Winchester dominating him like that was pretty hot. But he knew he was losing control in more ways than that and he didn't know how to hold on. For a minute he just sat there, watching Dean flirt with the bartender, then he decided that it was time things changed.

He walked over to the bar just as the girl was telling Dean what time she got off. Crowley didn't spare her a second glance as he grabbed Dean by the shirt and pulled him into a passionate kiss. "You're mine, Winchester," he growled as he pulled back.

The next thing that Crowley was aware of was a searing pain and he glanced down to see that Dean was pressing the First Blade against his stomach, barely cutting skin. His eyes flashed back up to Dean's to see that they were pitch black. "Let go of me," Dean hissed.

Having no other choice, Crowley released Dean's shirt without backing away, suddenly realizing that things we even worse than he had thought. Sure, Dean had threatened him before, and vice versa, but all of Crowley's threats had been empty, and he had assumed that it was the same for Dean. Now he wasn't so sure.

Dean didn't lower the blade as he glanced back at the bartender, his eyes returning to green. "Maybe some other time, then." He turned his attention back to Crowley, applying a bit more pressure on the blade and forcing him to take a step back. "Let's go have a chat. To our room?"

Crowley wasn't sure exactly how he had expected this to go, but he certainly hadn't expected it to lead to walking back to the room, all too aware that Dean was just inches behind him with the First Blade drawn, ready to attack at any time. He turned around as soon as he heard Dean close the hotel room door behind them, but before he could to anything more, Dean had grabbed him by the tie and swung him around, slamming him up against the wall.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, Crowley?" Dean demanded.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing."

"I'm just doing what comes natural. I mean, this is what you wanted, isn't it? Me, a demon."

"Yes, and you're acting like a spoiled little kid who is one present short of the hundred mark on his birthday." He flinched as he felt the blade dig into his side again. "Dean, I put up with this at the beginning. I understood. You were a new demon who wanted to experiment some – it's to be expected. But I have to draw the line somewhere, and I think it's time that you stop acting like a spoiled brat and come to terms with life."

Dean was silent for a couple of seconds before he started laughing. "You really don't get it, do you?"

"Don't get what?"

"Look, it's cute that you're in love with me and all, and I thought it could be useful so I played along, but now I'm sick of this. I don't give a damn about you, Crowley."

It took Crowley a second to realize that the fresh wave of pain he felt was not caused by the First Blade, that just those words were able to do that to him. He took a deep breath. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I mean, you can be fun, don't get me wrong. But when I was human you were basically just another excuse for me to hate myself, and I don't need that anymore."

Crowley struggled with words for a minute before he was able to respond. "Well, glad we got that out in the open. I'll leave you be, then."

"Good." Dean stowed the blade and walked out the door without another word.

As Crowley watched the door shut behind him, he wasn't sure if he wanted to destroy everything in sight or never move again. He had known that something was seriously up, not just with Dean, but with their relationship, he just hadn't wanted to acknowledge how bad it really was. He wanted to tell himself that it was just because Dean was a demon now, but given what he had just said, he wasn't so sure.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood there when he phone ringing brought him back from his thoughts. He pulled out his phone and looked at the number in confusion before answering. "You're dead."

"Nope," a familiar voice greeted him. "Just using a dead man's phone."

"Moose," Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. "I have never been so happy to hear your voice."

"Save it. I know you have some freaking demon parading around in Dean's meatsuit, and trust me, you are gonna pay for that."

Apparently Crowley had given Sam too much credit – he had figured that he would actually be able to figure it out by now. "Oh, moose, you have no idea. Your brother is very much alive, courtesy of the mark. And the only demonized soul inside of Dean is his and his alone. Certainly more twisted, more mangled beyond human recognition, but, I can assure you, all his."

"And the, uh, Abaddon supporters you've been sending to kill my brother, how does Dean feel about that double-cross?"

Why could the idiot not shut up long enough for him to get to the point? "The mark needed to be sated, and so I was providing an outlet for him. None of them stood half a chance against him."

"I don't know how you did this, what kind of... black-magic stunt you pulled, but hear me - I will save my brother or die trying."

"Would you just shut up for two seconds and listen to me? Look, that little stunt you pulled, trying to cure me, I'm assuming that will still work on a demon powered by the mark, right?"

"Why are you asking?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Because I'm publishing an article in Demon Weekly, why do you think?"

"Are you saying that you want Dean to be cured?"

"Yes, he's a pain and I'm ready to be shot of him. So I'm sure that we can work out a little deal here, right?"

"What kind of deal?"

"I'm sure by now you've traced the call and know what town we're in. So you show up here, I'll lead you to him, and then you'll get the First Blade from him and give it to me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm fairly certain that neither of us want him to have it. Are we in agreement?"

Sam hesitated a moment before sighing. "Yeah," he muttered, a bit reluctantly. "Where should I meet you?"

"I'll find you. Don't keep me waiting." He hung up before Sam could protest.

It wasn't until the next day that Crowley finally got word that Sam was in town.

"About time," he commented as he appeared behind him in the parking lot.

Sam spun around, his eyes narrowed. "I got a little held up."

"Yeah, save your sob story for someone else."

"Where's Dean?"

"The bar around the corner." Crowley had been keeping a watch on his ex from afar for the past twenty-four hours. It wasn't something that had been too terribly pleasant, but it had been necessary. "It's pretty empty this time of day."

"Great." Sam started to turn away.

Crowley hesitated, wanting to give Sam some kind of warning, but knowing how that could come across. "Sam, do be careful. He's not himself."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that."

"I just don't want you to mess this up. After you get him, meet me back here with the blade."

Sam nodded before he walked off.

Crowley wasn't sure why he was so nervous as he waited for Sam to return. If anyone could do this, it was him – unless he let his emotions get in the way. Unless he did the exact same thing Crowley had been doing for the past six weeks.

It had seemed so easy at the beginning; Dean would become a demon and then their problems would disappear – they would be the same thing, see the world the same way. Except they didn't. It was almost as if Dean had become exactly what he had always saw a demon to be – a monster that cared only for its own pleasure. And maybe that was true for the most part, but there were exceptions. Crowley had known a few demons to fall for each other. Admittedly, he was the first idiot he had heard of that fell for a human, but if it had happened before, it probably wouldn't have been advertised throughout Hell. But if anyone were to be a demon capable of these kinds of feelings, Crowley had been sure that Dean would be among them. Maybe it was just because of the mark; Crowley didn't know, and it really didn't matter anymore. The chance was gone, and after this, Dean would never be able to forgive him.

He looked up as Sam pulled into the parking lot, Dean sitting, handcuffed, in the passenger's seat of the Impala.

"Got it?" Crowley asked as Sam walked up to him.

He nodded and handed him the blade.

"A pleasure doing business."

"What are you gonna do with it?"

"Toss it into a volcano, leave it on the Moon. I'll get creative. Believe me, I don't want Dean getting his hands on the precious any more than you do. Your brother knows I ratted. He tends to hold a grudge. I don't want to get... boned."

"This doesn't make us square. If I see you again-"

"Oh, stop it, Samantha. No one likes a tease."

Crowley finally willed himself to look at Dean and immediately wished that he hadn't. He was glaring at him in a way that made him quite certain that, if Dean still had the First Blade, he would be using it to kill him right now.

He took a deep breath and then disappeared, going to the bar that Dean had been at. He knew that things were over between him and Dean forever. Sam would turn him human, he would know that he had turned him into a demon (however unsure of the consequences he had been at the time, he knew it would be enough for Dean), and he would never want to speak to him again. He needed a drink.


	8. Only If You Stay

Dean sat on his bed, motionless apart from rotating the phone in his hands. Occasionally, he'd stop, go to his contacts, and get all the way to Crowley's name before exiting out again.

_'When I was human you were basically just another excuse for me to hate myself, and I don't need that anymore,'_  his words echoed in his mind. They weren't true, of course they weren't, he had just been trying to hurt him. Crowley couldn't honestly believe that it was true, right? But Dean knew he did believe it. He needed to just call him and explain, but he didn't know how to even start.

He dropped the phone as he heard a knock at the door, and got to his feet as Cas came in.

"You look terrible," Cas greeted him.

He hadn't looked in a mirror, but he knew Cas was probably right, and he also knew that he probably didn't look half as terrible as he felt. He was only partially paying attention to the conversation, feeling like he was being pulled in several different directions. Cas, Crowley, Sam – there was so much he had to fix, and he didn't know if it was possible.

He wandered back to the bed, picking up his phone again as Cas left the room. He blinked in surprise when he saw that he had a missed call from Crowley. His heart hammering, he sank down on his bed and listened to the voicemail.

"Dean, I know you're back to human by now, and I just want you to know that I don't expect to hear from you again. Don't feel obligated to explain things, because I really don't want to hear it. Just let this be it. Goodbye."

Dean felt his stomach drop as he slowly lowered the phone from his ear. Now what the hell was he supposed to do? Just call him anyway and attempt to talk? But knowing Crowley, he probably wouldn't answer and would delete any voicemails he left before listening to him. Could this really be it?

He threw his phone against the wall, not bothering to look at the resulting damage as he wiped a couple of tears from his eyes. He had known from the beginning that there was no way a relationship with a demon could end well, but he had been an idiot and had gone through with it anyway, and now all he had to show for it was the pain.

It was a little while before Dean started hunting again, and even longer before Sam was willing to let him go on his own. So when he was being taken down by a werewolf, he blamed it on the fact that he was out of practice, or he would have if he hadn't been too busy trying to work out how not to die – again.

He reached blindly to the side for his gun that had been knocked away, feeling faint hope when his fingers made contact with the metal. He raised it up and managed to fire off a shot before he lost consciousness.

* * *

Dean blinked a few times as his surroundings slowly came into focus. He was on a bed in a room that he didn't recognize, furnished lavishly in red and black. His eyes shot to the door as it opened and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the familiar face.

"You're awake," Crowley noted tonelessly as he walked over and set a tray of food down on the table beside the bed, the door swinging shut behind him.

"Crowley…?"

"Before you say anything, I just saved your life, so be grateful. You should eat something." He said all of this without looking at Dean and began walking back to the door the second he was done speaking.

"Crowley, wait. We need to talk." He was here, so he might as well give it a shot. Every day, he tried to come up with some way to make things right with Crowley, but it seemed to be impossible. This may be his only shot.

Crowley stopped, but didn't turn around. "No."

"Then why did you bother saving me?"

He hesitated a second. "I was just passing through and heard the gunshot – you missed, by the way, didn't even graze it. You're losing your touch."

"I was going unconscious, I could barely see. And that doesn't answer my question."

Crowley sighed. "I figured it was the least I could do."

"What's that supposed to mean? And would you just look at me?"

"I'm very busy, Dean, I have to go."

"Hey!" Dean got to his feet, bracing his hand against the table as the room started to spin. He stumbled forward a step before he felt a hand on his arm.

"Would you stop being an idiot and get back in bed?"

"Only if you stay with me."

Crowley sighed. "Alright, fine. Lay back down, I'm not going anywhere."

Dean knew that he could very well be lying, but he also knew that he was right and he needed to lay down. He grabbed hold of Crowley's arm to steady himself as he climbed back into bed. He leaned back against the headboard, looking towards Crowley as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You really do need to eat something," Crowley said, picking up the tray and setting it on Dean's lap.

Dean eyed the plate for a moment before picking up the burger and taking a bite. "Thanks," he muttered.

"Don't mention it."

Crowley was silent as Dean ate, trying to avoid looking at his ex, and ultimately failing. Why did he have to insist that he stay here? Did he just want to torture him? Because that's all that being around Dean did to him right now – tortured him by showing him what he had lost.

"That was delicious," Dean declared as he finished his last fry.

"Good." Crowley snapped his fingers and the tray disappeared. "You should probably rest up a bit more – you were in pretty bad shape when I brought you here – then I'll take you back to your brother."

"We still need to talk."

"I think I've made it perfectly clear that I don't want to talk."

"Yes, and I had accepted that, until you went and saved my life."

"So was I just supposed to leave you there to die?" he demanded incredulously.

"I wouldn't have blamed you."

"Well, I would have."

"So you care enough to not want me to die, but not enough to listen to what I have to say, is that it?"

Crowley chuckled darkly, looking away. "I'd say it's more that I care too much to listen to it."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I don't want to hear how much you hate me, Dean!" he nearly shouted, his head snapping back around to look at him.

Dean just stared at him for a couple of seconds before drawing back his fist and punching him. Crowley clenched his jaw, but he just took it with no response. "You fucking bastard," Dean growled. "You tell me to never talk to you again because you think  _I_   _hate_   _you?!"_

"I turned you into a demon, Dean, it's not hard to figure out."

"And you're the reason I'm human now."

"You…" Crowley struggled for words as the conversation took a turn he hadn't anticipated.

"So you made me think that you couldn't forgive me all because you were too much of a coward to talk to me about it?"

Crowley hesitated. "You really thought that I couldn't forgive you?" he asked softly.

"Well, after the way I treated you, the things I said – none of which was true, by the way – and then that message pretty well confirmed it."

"You really don't hate me?"

"I'm pretty pissed at you right now, but no."

The next thing Dean knew, Crowley was straddling his lap and his lips were locked on his. Dean returned the kiss passionately, his hands gripping Crowley's hips tightly and pulling him closer.

A few minutes into the kiss, Dean's phone started going off. Crowley pulled back, but Dean's lips just continued down to his neck.

"Dean, your phone," Crowley muttered, holding back a moan.

"I don't care," he murmured against his skin.

"It's probably your brother – if you don't answer it, I will."

Dean drew back, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Seriously?"

"You'll thank me later, when he's not freaking out, trying to find you."

He sighed and pulled out his phone. "Yeah?" he answered, bringing it to his ear.

"Where are you?" Sam demanded. "You said that you'd be back by morning."

Oh, was it morning already, then? "Yeah… well, I found someone to relieve the post-hunt stress with." He winked at Crowley, grinding up against him slightly.

Sam gave a sigh of relief. "And you're sure she's not a prostitute this time, right?"

Crowley's eyebrows shot up and Dean felt his cheeks darken slightly. "Yeah, definitely sure this time."  _Dammit, Sam!_

"Good, there's no telling if all the demons involved in that were taken out, and I wouldn't want you dealing with that on your own. Or Rowena, since that could draw her out again."

Crowley's expression abruptly went blank.

"Even if that was the case, I could handle it. But it's not, so if you don't mind, I would like to get back to what I was doing. I'm not sure when I'll be back."

"Just keep me posted."

Dean hung up the phone and set it on the table as he raised an eyebrow at Crowley. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Crowley said quickly, forcing a small smile. "So… anything you want to tell me?"

Dean sighed. "I might have had a bit of a hard time getting over you, so I got on this dating site, looking for a good time, and… she ended up being a prostitute, working for-"

"Raul."

"I suppose you would know that. But… sex for souls? Seriously?"

"It was not my idea, and it was not approved by me, and believe me, it is finished. The whole thing was horribly tacky."

"I'm glad you think so."

"Although, I do wish I had seen the look on your face when she asked for your soul."

"Yeah, that kinda caught me off guard. Almost as much as it did when we tracked down Raul to find that one of the oldest witches in the world had killed him."

"Ah… yes…."

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Why do I get the feeling that you know something I don't?"

"Because I generally do."

"Crowley?" Dean urged.

Crowley sighed, rolling off of Dean's lap to lay on his back beside him. "Can't we just get back to sex?"

Dean laid down on his side, propping his head up on his hand to look down at Crowley. "Yes, as soon as you tell me what you know about Rowena."

He hesitated. "I know where she is."

"And you're not doing anything? She killed quite a few of your demons."

Crowley raised an eyebrow as he turned his head to the side to look at Dean. "You really want to convince me to target everyone who kills my demons? Because she hasn't killed half as many as you and your brother."

"Well, we're the exception, aren't we? It's not like you to just let her walk away after everything she did."

"Who says I did?"

"Where is she, then?"

"Downstairs, and she won't be leaving anytime soon."

"That's it? A prisoner? Isn't killing more your style?"

"Torture is more my style," he corrected. "But as you pointed out before, there are always exceptions."

"Why her?"

Crowley was silent for a minute. "Crowley?" Dean pressed when he realized that he wasn't getting a response.

"She's my mother," he muttered.

Dean's eyes widened. "Your… son of a bitch…."

"You're not wrong."

"I nearly kill my boyfriend's mother…" Dean voiced the realization.

"You've nearly killed your boyfriend, too. But if you had killed her, I wouldn't blame you."

"Family issues?"

"You could say that…. I'm fairly certain that she's trying gain my trust because she's after something – I just don't know what, yet."

"Maybe you should…"

"Kill her? Yeah, believe me, I know. But I keep thinking about the off-chance that maybe she could suddenly have started caring. And with her being as powerful as she is, that could be useful…" He knew that Dean probably wouldn't buy that last part, but it wasn't like it really mattered with him. It was nice to have someone that he could talk to about this – demons didn't generally respond well to learning their king's soft spots.

"You know that you don't have to pretend with me, right?" Dean called Crowley's bluff. "You can admit that you care."

Crowley's eyes darted away, still not liking verbally admitting it. "I may have a couple of… weak points."

Dean have a small, knowing grin. "A couple?"

"Don't push your luck, squirrel." Crowley shot a glare at Dean, the corners of his lips twitched up slightly.

"Oh, come on, admit it." Dean ducked his head, pressing his lips to Crowley's jawline.

Determinedly stubborn as always, Crowley pushed himself up to hover over Dean, grinding his hips down against him. "You're getting nothing out of me."

Dean just smirked. "We'll see about that. Remember, I'm still pissed at you, so you might want to do as I say."

"Oh yes, I can see you fuming right now." He bit down on Dean's neck, drawing a delicious moan from him. "Oh, I've missed that sound," he murmured against his skin.

"You're not getting anything until you admit it," Dean muttered, using every ounce of self-control not to grab onto Crowley.

Well, now he just couldn't admit it on principal – there was no way he was letting Dean win this. "Sure you can hold out?" he challenged, sliding a hand beneath his shirt, the other hand gripping his hip tightly as he ran his lips over his neck.

Dean's hands clenched into fists around the sheets beneath him. "Just – admit it," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Crowley's lips moved up to Dean's ear. "I'm going to fuck you," he breathed. "And that's all you're getting out of me."

Dean reached down and gripped Crowley's cock through his pants, causing him to grown deeply. "Try again," he hissed.

Crowley grabbed hold of Dean's jaw and kissed him fiercely. They really were both too stubborn for their own good, and Crowley really wanted sex – he had waited too long already. "Fine," he muttered as he drew back. "I care about you, as you very well know. You're my greatest weak point."

Of course, Dean had already known that, but he still loved hearing it, especially when it cost Crowley so much to admit it. He smirked briefly before he wrapped a hand around the back of Crowley's head and pulled him down into another kiss. "Then fuck me," he murmured against his lips. "And prove it."

Crowley didn't need telling twice. He snapped his fingers and both of their clothes disappeared. Dean immediately grabbed onto Crowley's ass, pulling him down against him and grinding their cocks together. Crowley's lips ran from Dean's jaw, down his neck, and along his chest, kissing and biting along the way His hand ran down Dean's stomach and then wrapped around the both of their cocks, making Dean's back arch off the bed as he moaned.

"Crowley, move your hand," Dean nearly whimpered, yearning for friction as Crowley's hand remained stationary.

"Well, if you insist…" Crowley started to let go completely, but Dean's hand shot down and wrapped around his, guiding him to pump along their cocks.

"Bastard," Dean muttered.

Crowley chuckled a bit breathlessly. "You can let go, Dean," he murmured. "I won't stop."

Dean released his hand, instead digging his fingers into his hip as tight as he could, drawing a moan from Crowley when he drew blood. Crowley increased the speed of his hand as his tongue flicked over Dean's nipple.

"Oh, fuck… Crowley," Dean moaned. "I need you right now."

Crowley materialized lube on his other hand and immediately slid two fingers into Dean. He pumped his fingers at the same pace as his other hand, scissoring inside him. "Beg for me, Dean," he breathed against his skin as his lips ghosted over his chest.

"Please, Crowley," he groaned. "Please, I need you to fuck me."

Crowley increased his pace slightly. "What?"

"Fuck me!"

"Louder." He released Dean's cock and coated his own in lube.

"Dammit, Crowley! Please, just fuck me."

"Gladly." He pulled his fingers out before thrusting roughly into him with a groan. He hooked a hand under Dean's leg and hitched it up over his hip, getting a new angle so that he could thrust in deeper, hitting Dean's prostate.

"Oh god, Crowley," Dean moaned, his leg tightening around him.

Crowley's hand slid up Dean's chest and slipped beneath his neck, lifting it slightly as he sunk his teeth into the skin there. He bit down hard on his neck several times, ensuring that he left plenty of marks. After everything that had happened, he didn't care about the potential complications anymore. He wanted everyone to know that Dean Winchester was his.

Dean clenched his teeth together, trying to quiet himself, but unable to hold back his moans and screams. It had been so long, and Crowley felt so amazing inside him, and he couldn't get enough. He could feel blood running down his neck from one of the bites, Crowley's hot breath against his skin as he mercilessly moved inside him with fast, rough thrusts, always hitting his prostate perfectly, and it was almost too much for him. He could feel heat pooling in his core, and before he knew it, he was coming, screaming Crowley's name. Crowley followed shortly after, Dean's name leaving his lips in a moan as he emptied himself into him.

"Damn," Crowley breathed, pressing his lips against Dean's neck. "That's it, I am never letting you go again."

Dean grinned as he cupped Crowley's cheek and pulled him up into a kiss. "I'm not going anywhere," he said after a minute, as he pulled away.

Crowley mirrored Dean's grin, running his hand over his side as he slowly pulled out of him. "I will hold you to that."

"I wouldn't expect anything less. Just don't pull a stunt like that again."

"Yes, yes, I know," he sighed, rolling onto his back. "But you have to realize, the idea that you would think that  _I_  couldn't forgive  _you_  never entered my mind. Sure, you cheated, but you were a demon at the time."

Dean shrugged slightly. "I was thinking more in regards to the things I had said."

Crowley expression immediately fell. "Oh… that." Truth be told, he had been trying not to think about the things Dean had said, because they did still hurt, and he knew that they were more than likely the truth.

Dean's eyebrows drew together slightly. "You do know that I didn't mean any of it, don't you?"

Crowley hesitated. "Maybe not now, but you meant it at the time."

"Not when I said that I didn't even care about you as a human." Seriously, how could he think that?

"It's not that I don't believe you, Dean." He chose his words carefully as he rolled onto his side to look at him better. "But you see things more clearly when you're a demon. It could be true without you realizing it – it wouldn't be the only thing you got right as a demon."

"Well, I know for a fact that it is not true in the slightest. I don't care how supposedly clear I saw things as a demon, I know how I feel about you right now. And if that doesn't convince you, I remember saying it, and I remember being annoyed and deciding to lie to hurt you. Even as a demon I remembered how I had felt about you, and I deliberately  _lied."_

Crowley's expression softened, the worry vanishing from his eyes. "In that case, I suppose I'd better stop questioning you before I get in even more trouble."

"Yes, you'd better." Dean leaned in and pressed his lips briefly against Crowley's. "So, what were you saying I got right as a demon?" he asked curiously as he pulled back.

Crowley sighed, immediately wishing he hadn't let those words slip out. "I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll forget I said that?"

"None at all."

"It's just something that you said about me…. I'm sure you already know."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't believe any of the things that I said about you– at least, not now," he added in case Crowley was going to try to twist things with that again.

"Really? None of them have a ring of truth to it?"

"No. Would you just tell me what it is?"

Crowley looked away. "I'd  _really_  rather not."

"Then you shouldn't have brought it up in the first place."

"I figured you would overlook that comment – and that you already knew." Did he really not believe it? This really was proof that demons saw things more clearly.

"Just tell me, Crowley, I don't care how bad it is." Dean was going back through all of the horrible things he had said as a demon, but he couldn't think of any of them that had any truth to them.

"Think back to our last conversation," Crowley prompted, really not wanting to just come out and say it.

"Really? What from that can possibly be true?" Dean demanded.

"Just one thing was. You said it right along with telling me that you didn't give a damn about me."

"I said…" Dean thought back to the conversation, trying to remember exact wording from a conversation that he had struggled to block out.  _Look, it's cute that you're in love with me and all, and I thought it could be useful so I played along, but now I'm sick of this. I don't give a damn about you, Crowley._  Dean's eyes widened as the words came back to him. "Crowley… what is it?" he asked again, almost scare to say it, in case he was wrong.

"You already know."

"No. I am not saying this for you.  _What is it?"_

Crowley sighed, closing his eyes, hoping that that might make it easier. "I love you."

Dean wrapped a hand around the back of Crowley's head and kissed him as passionately as he could. "I love you, too," he breathed against his lips.


	9. To What End

Dean groaned as the sound of his phone ringing woke up him. He reached blindly out to the side, grabbing it off the table and bringing it to his ear. "What?" he muttered.

"Get up, I found us a case," Sam's voice greeted him.

"This early? What time is it?"

"Dean, it's noon." Dean could almost hear the eye roll through the phone.

"Oh... well, crazy night last night."

"Yeah, you've been having a crazy night nearly every night for the past two months."

"What can I say? I'd better live it up while I can. There's no telling if I'll be coming back the next time I die."

"Just meet me in St. Louis, Missouri."

"Sure thing." He hung up the phone as he pushed himself up.

He had been staying at Crowley's most nights for the past couple of months, and honestly, he was surprised that Sam wasn't more suspicious. Or maybe he was, and he just wasn't saying anything about it. Either way, for once, he was actually pretty happy with the way his life was.

"I will do as I bloody well please!"

Dean's head snapped to the door as Crowley's yell echoed in the hallway. Well… mostly happy, at least. There was always something that could be fixed.

Crowley stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

"How's your mother this morning?" Dean asked knowingly.

Crowley just glowered as he walked over to sit on the bed beside Dean. "How do you think?

"What is it this time?"

Crowley was silent for a couple of seconds. "You," he muttered without looking at his boyfriend.

"Me?" Dean asked in surprise.

"She's on her tenth rant of 'he's a hunter, you can't trust him. What kind of image are you setting?' It's like listening to a broken record."

Dean felt his stomach clench and he hoped that Crowley wasn't seeing any truth to her words. "Sounds lovely. So, when do I get to meet her?"

"Hopefully never. I have a feeling that one of you will end up killing the other, and I have no desire to see the outcome of that fight. You may be the best hunter in the world, but she is not to be underestimated."

"Well, I have news for you, Crowley. If it turns out that she is trying to hurt you, there is nothing that will stop me from killing her."

Crowley grinned slightly, touched the Dean's idiotic tendency to risk his life for those he cared about extended to him. "But if you get hurt, that will not end well for anyone."

Dean hesitated a second. "Do you trust her?"

"I don't trust anyone, least of all her. But she has uncovered a couple of traitorous demons, so…" He shrugged. "Things seem to be heading in the right direction."

Dean was far from convinced, but he wasn't going to press it. He knew that Rowena was a tough subject and he really didn't have time to get into this discussion right now. "Well… I actually have to head out. Sam's on a case and he needs my help." He got to his feet, grabbing some clothes out of the closet that he now basically shared with Crowley.

"And I don't suppose that you're up for a little chat with moose, are you?"

"Definitely not," Dean muttered as he pulled on his shirt.

"I'm getting really sick of this, Dean."

"I know, but… this is the best my life has been, basically ever. And if Sam finds out, he's going to go ballistic. I just want to enjoy this for a little while longer before breaking the peace."

Crowley sighed. "Fine. We'll continue sneaking around, then."

"Thank you." He finished getting dressed and walked over to give Crowley a peck on the lips before heading out the door.

When he and Crowley had first gotten together, they had agreed that no one else could know about it, but a lot had changed since then. Now they both wanted a more solid relationship, and if Dean was honest, he was tired of sneaking around too. But telling Sam was easier said than done. He had played through possible conversations in his head several times over, and no matter what, it always ended with Sam never speaking to him again.

Dean had made it to the ground level of the house and was heading to the garage, lost in his thoughts, when he heard a voice speak from the hallway to his right.

"So," a woman spoke in a Scottish accent and Dean knew immediately who it was before he turned to see the witch that he had only ever seen once before. "You're the hunter who has been poisoning my son's mind."

Dean scoffed. "Poisoning his mind? I think you've got that backwards. You're the only one doing that."

Rowena took a few steps towards him, her lips pressed into a thin line and her chin held high. "It's Dean Winchester, isn't it? The same man who held a gun to my head. I have to admit, I had not expected that." She gave a small sigh that Dean thought was a bit dramatic. "Does my son know you tried to kill his mother?"

He gave a roll of his eyes as he crossed his arms. "Found out about it months ago. Said he wouldn't have blamed me if I'd offed you."

"Are you trying to tear us apart, is that your goal? Keep him away from me? Keep him weak?"

"Crowley will never be weak. Although, you do raise an interesting point." He took a step forward. "What do  _you_  want from him? You're trying to drive him away from his demons, away from me, get him to rely solely on you; I can see that, plain as day. But to what end?"

"How dare you accuse me of trying to hurt my son," she spoke in a low, dangerous voice. "You have no right. I am merely offering him guidance, as any caring mother would."

"Yeah, but you're not a caring mother, are you? You're just some bitch using your son to get what you want."

"And what, pray tell, am I using him for?"

"I don't know, but I will find out."

"You mean you will come up with a lie. Because I can certainly see what you are doing. You want the King of Hell wrapped around your finger because that will make your hunting easier. Get him distracted, kill all the demons you want, and then when the time is right, kill him. It's a fine plan, but I won't let it happen."

Dean lunged at her, forcing her up against the wall with his forearm pressed against her throat. "I don't know who you're trying to fool here," he hissed. "I think you and I both know which of us is playing Crowley, and it sure as hell ain't me."

"You're trying to turn a boy against his own mother."

Damn, Crowley really did have a point about her being a broken record. "I'm trying to protect him. I will protect him. The only thing stopping me from killing you right now is him, but the second his half-trust in you wavers, that's it."

"You claim to care about him, and yet you're plotting to kill his mother."

"You know what? I'm done with this game. I don't know what you were expecting to accomplish here, but nothing can make me question my feelings for Crowley, least of all you." He brought his arm down and stormed away from her, to the garage, before he could lose his temper completely.

Rowena glared after him, but her lips were curling up slightly into a smug smile. "And that's all I needed to know," she murmured under her breath before turning and walking upstairs to Crowley's room. She stopped outside the room and knocked twice, her expression distressed as Crowley opened the door.

He had known that Dean wouldn't knock if he had decided to come back for whatever reason, but Crowley was still disappointed when he opened the door to see his mother standing there. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"I just thought you should know," she started as she walked past Crowley, into the room. "Your hunter  _boyfriend_  just slammed me against the wall and threatened to kill me."

Crowley turned towards her, his expression blank other than a raised eyebrow. What had Dean been thinking? "Is that all?"

"He threatened to kill me!"

At that, Crowley laughed, pacing away from both the door and his mother a few steps, before turning back to her. "Mother, if he had wanted to kill you, he would have done it."

"So you're just going to stand by as he treats me like this?"

"Well, I'm assuming that you did something to provoke him."

"I did no such thing! He just saw me and came at me, yelling at me for putting doubts in your head, which I hope you now see, I was perfectly justified in."

Crowley was still unfazed. "All I see is what I knew would happen if you two ever met. There's a reason I told you to keep your distance."

"He doesn't care about you, I could see it in his eyes. A mother knows these things."

"I'm done listening to this," he snapped. "Go find some other way to occupy yourself, other than making my life miserable."

Rowena sighed. "Must children always view their parents as a burden?" She started back towards the door before she stopped to look back at Crowley. "By the way, your operation in St. Louis has caught the attention of a hunter."

That got a reaction out of him. "What? How? I specifically designed it to go unnoticed!"

"It's because your demons are incompetent!" She spun around to fully face him again. "They lack discipline! I keep telling you, but you won't listen."

Crowley just groaned, running a hand over his face. He did not want to deal with this right now.

"If  _I_  were in your position, I would have all the hotels the hunter is likely to be staying at attacked – slaughter everyone. Or… I have a few tricks I could pull."

Crowley hesitated. "Who is the hunter?"

"You have got to be kidding me! A hunter is about to bring down everything you're working for, anyone else would do everything in their power to attack first! But you're too worried that the Winchesters are involved, aren't you? You caring for that hunter will be the death of you!"

"Who is the hunter?" Crowley repeated in a more dangerous voice.

"I don't know," Rowena said resolutely, crossing her arms.

Crowley's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll go myself and assess the situation."

"You'll assess until it's too late!"

 _"Goodbye,_  Mother." He snapped his fingers and was gone.

* * *

"So, what's the case?" Dean asked, taking a seat in the available chair of the hotel room that Sam had rented.

"I'm still trying to figure that out," Sam admitted. His laptop was open on the small table between them and his eyes were glued to the screen, reading an article.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"There's nothing obviously out of the ordinary going on here, but I got a tip."

"A tip? I can't remember the last time we got a tip."

"I know, I found it weird, too."

"Who was it from?"

"Unknown number – wouldn't give me her name."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "And did you ever stop to think that this might be a trap?"

"Of course I did," he sighed. "And like I said, there's no obvious signs of a case here, but if you dig deep enough… I think the tip is genuine."

"But how did she even get your number?"

"She said that it was given to her by a friend – could be any number of the people that we've helped. She was probably just too scared to say who she was."

"Fine, so what have you found?" he asked, nodding at the laptop.

"There's this company – Resurrection – that helps failing businesses get back on their feet. From what I can tell, they have a 100% success rate, and they turn businesses around almost instantly. My guess is, ten years from now, CEOs are going to start dying."

"Demons," Dean muttered, a frown pulling at his lips as he turned his gaze out the window. He had known that something like this was going to come up eventually, but that didn't make him any more prepared to deal with it.

"I can't be sure yet, but I'm thinking so. I'm looking into some of the companies it's helped, seeing if they all exhibit the same turnaround rate."

Dean nodded absently, only half hearing what Sam was saying.

"Hey – Dean. You okay?" Sam asked after a minute of his brother staring off into space.

Dean looked back at him. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine."

Sam hesitated a minute. "Are you going to tell me who she is?"

Dean blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Come on, Dean, you think I haven't noticed? You've been going out every night for how long now? You aren't exactly being subtle."

Dean looked down at the table, not sure if he was glad Sam thought he was dating some girl or not. "When'd you figure it out?"

"About a week in. I figured I'd wait for you to tell me, but I was starting to wonder if you ever would. What's the deal? I want this for you. I've never seen you happier."

Dean smile slightly before looking back up at his brother. "It's just… it's complicated, Sammy. I don't want to mess it up."

Sam studied his face for a moment. "You're in love."

"Is it really that obvious?"

"It is to me."

Sam was looking at him with such happiness and understanding, that Dean could almost make himself believe that it would be okay to tell him the whole truth, that he would just say 'whatever makes you happy' and move on. But he knew that that wasn't how it would go at all, and in the middle of a case involving demons was the worst time to tell him.

"Should we go talk to some of the companies, then?" Dean asked, getting to his feet. "Maybe our whistle-blower is in one of them."

"You go on, I'm going to keep looking into this."

Dean nodded, he had figured as much, anyway. He changed into his suit and started for the door.

"Dean," Sam stopped him, turning in his chair to look at him. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

Dean sighed. "Great, just like every other time you've asked me this week."

"So, there's no…?"

"Sam, the Mark is gone, there's no after-effects. Can't we just take a good thing and go with it?"

"It's not that I'm not happy, I just still don't get why Crowley would go through all the trouble of finding a cure and then not demand anything in return – it's not like him. I'm worried that he might have done something to you."

"With the mark, I was a threat to him. He got what he wanted out of it, and he didn't do anything to me – I would have noticed by now."

"I hope you're right."

Dean walked out the door before Sam could argue anymore. He felt like they had had this conversation ten times already. It had been difficult enough explaining to him the first time around that Crowley had come across a cure for the Mark of Cain and was going to help him get rid of it. Sam had been sure that Crowley had been after Dean's soul, at the least, and it wasn't like Dean could tell him the real reason Crowley was helping.

Dean was a block away from the closest company that had been saved by Resurrection, when he heard a voice speak from behind him. "I do love how you look in a suit."

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to face Crowley. "I'd been wondering if I'd see you."

"Where's moose?"

"Back at the hotel, doing research."

"Good. We need to talk."

"You think?"

Crowley sighed. "So, you figured it out, then."

"Yeah." Dean leaned against the wall of the building beside him. "Saving companies in exchange for souls – not bad."

"In today's economy, everybody's desperate."

"Do they know what they're getting themselves into?"

"Of course. They sell their souls of their own free will, just like all the other deals that happen every day without you and your brother trying to stop them. You can't save people from being self-destructive."

Dean nodded. "I know, but… we're here, and I can't exactly not look into it."

"Dean, I need this operation."

"I know. I'll figure something out."

"How did Samantha even find out about it, anyway?"

"He got a tip – and she wouldn't say her name, so don't even ask."

Crowley's eyes narrowed slightly. "Interesting…. Be careful, Dean, there may be more here than my demons."

"I had wondered. I'll call you later, let you know what's going on."

"Thanks." He pulled Dean into a kiss and then vanished.

Dean checked out a couple of the companies, not that he really needed to after the confirmation from Crowley, but he needed something that he could tell Sam. After talking it over, they both decided to check out Resurrection after hours. Dean had his misgivings about it, but hopefully no demons would be there at the time.

"Are you sure you're okay, Dean?" Sam asked, watching him carefully as they cut through an alley.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Ever since I told you what was going on here, you've seemed off. You don't… you don't feel like you owe Crowley for what he did, do you?"

Why did he have to keep bringing up Crowley? Dean sighed, deciding to go along with it. It was a good cover for now, at least. "The guy saved my life, Sam. And I know he did it for his own reasons, but he could have just killed me and solved the problem just as well."

"So, you want to let innocent people die just because you feel indebted to a demon?"

"Of course not, but we do let deals go on every day."

"Only because we can't stop all of them! Do you hear yourself right now?"

"I thought we decided that people could make their own decisions and it's not our place to stop them."

"No, that was you who said that."

"Well, I still think it."

"Dean – Dean!"

The change in Sam's voice was enough to make Dean spin around to see about thirty people coming into the alley, the majority of whom had black eyes, apart from the handful with red eyes – demons. There was no way that they could take on all of them, especially when Sam was the only one who had a weapon that worked against demons. But Dean did have one thing….

"Split up," he said quickly. "I'll meet you back at the car."

As they both took off in opposite directions, one of Dean's hands was reaching in his pocket for his phone, while the other reached up to the amulet that was hidden beneath his shirt, ensuring that it was still there. It was a gift from Crowley; he had said that it would protect him from all demons' powers, except for his own. He allowed himself a quick breath of relief at the fact that the demons at least couldn't throw him around as easily, but he knew that he was still in trouble.

He chanced a glance behind him as he pressed 2 on his speed dial, seeing that most of the demons seemed to have decided to follow him. Well, that was just great. Had they been able to sense that he was unarmed, with not even any holy water? At least Sam would be okay this way.

He turned his gaze back to the road in front of him, just in time to see the demon who had teleported there, a second before he was grabbed.

"I really wouldn't hurt me, if I were you," Dean warned.

"Oh, I really would," the demon hissed. As soon as the words left his mouth, Dean felt an excruciating pain as a good-sized knife slid into his side. For a few moments, all Dean felt was the pain, not that that was really a new concept to him – with all of the times that he had died, he knew the feeling quite well – then everything went black.


	10. Real Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter changed direction about five times while I was writing it and so it ended completely differently from how I had originally intended. So I hope you like it.

Crowley gingerly laid Dean down on the table in the make-shift hospital room that he had set up in his house. It felt a bit like deja vu, having brought Dean, unconscious, back to his house just months ago; only this time, he was in much worse shape. He wrapped the wound, but he knew it was useless. Dean had already lost too much blood. He was dying, and Crowley wasn't sure if he could stop it.

He had answered Dean's call, and as soon as he realized that something was wrong, he had been there, watching the demon pull the blade out of Dean's unconscious body, only to drive it in again. Those demons would suffer for this, but Crowley knew that neither them nor the person who had orchestrated this – and he had a pretty good idea as to who that was – was entirely to blame. He hadn't gotten there quick enough. This was his fault, and now he had to do everything he could to fix it.

Before he could make the call, Dean's phone started ringing and Crowley quickly pulled it out of his pocket and answered.

"Dean?" Sam's worried voice came from the speaker.

"Dean's hurt." It was an understatement, but the fact that Dean didn't answer the phone would fill in the rest.

"What've you done to him?" Sam growled.

"Nothing," he snapped. He really didn't have time for this. "I didn't order that attack. Where are you?"

"Why would I tell you that?"

"So I can bring you to your brother."

Sam only hesitated a second before saying the name of the street he was on, and then Crowley was instantly behind him.

"Let's go," Crowley said curtly, wanting to be back at Dean's side.

"Where's Dean?" Sam demanded as he turned around.

"My house." He grabbed Sam's arm and teleported them back to the room Dean was in before Sam could protest.

"Dean," Sam breathed, going to his side. He stared at him a second before looking up at Crowley. "How much blood has he lost?"

"Too much." Crowley moved to Dean's other side, not caring that Sam was standing there as he ran a hand through Dean's hair.

Sam watched the motion with narrowed eyes before understanding lit his face. "What can be done?" he asked softly, his expression a mix of emotions that Crowley wasn't going to take the time to decipher.

"Two options. One, I believe you're familiar with – you can make a deal. I would, but I can't. Two…" He took a deep breath. "We let him die, and then I bring him back from Hell. He would be a demon, but without doing a stint in Hell, his soul won't be demonized – so it wouldn't be like last time. It would still be him, but with black eyes."

"And I assume you want the second one," Sam spat, disgust becoming more prominent on his face.

For the first time, Crowley met Sam's eyes with a glare. "I don't care which one, I just want him back."

"Then, deal. I'll sell my soul-"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"Do you have any idea what he'd do to me if I let you sell your soul? No, we're changing the price."

"To  _what?"_  he demanded, and Crowley knew that he thought he was just trying to make this difficult for him, make it so that the only option was for Dean to become a demon. That wasn't the case, though. As much as he would love for Dean to be a demon, he wasn't sure how he would cope with it this time around. He would almost rather play it safe and have Sam make a deal, but he knew that there was no way that Dean would ever be able to look at him again if he got his brother to sell his soul.

"That's up to you," he answered. "You need to sacrifice enough so that I can bring him back, but I can't let you sacrifice too much."

"If he… becomes a demon…"

"He'll get all of the perks, but retain his humanity."

"And you said that's because he won't have spent any time in Hell, but he didn't spend time in Hell the last time he became a demon."

"No, and I did think that things would turn out differently, but there was no way to predict what the Mark would do to him. He doesn't have it now – now the circumstances are completely different, and he will still be the Dean we know and love."

Sam crossed his arms. "I still don't want him becoming a demon."

"I know you don't. So you had better figure out a significant sacrifice that won't hurt him fast, or I'm going with option two. I am not losing him again."

"Again…?" Crowley didn't say anything as Sam looked at him quizzically for a few seconds. "How long have you two been… whatever?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. He really wanted to do this now? "Boyfriends? Well, officially, since shortly after our escapade to find the First Blade. Unofficially… we slept together while you were in Hell."

_"What?"_  Sam blanched.

"You asked. It only lasted a week, if that's any comfort. Now, stop avoiding the matter at hand. What will cost you a fair amount to give, but won't hurt you? Only you can figure it out."

Sam sighed. "There are thousands of secrets in the bunker-"

"It has to be something more personal than that. I need real sacrifice here. What's something that matters?"

"Dean matters, and I will give anything up for him, so just name a price!"

"It's not that simple." Crowley felt like it was his fifth time explaining this to him, and it was really starting to irritate him. "I don't know what constitutes a large enough sacrifice for you."

"And clearly, I don't either!"

"Well, then, I suppose there's only one thing we can do." He took a step back

_"No,"_  Sam said fiercely.

"There's no other choice. He'll still be himself, I promise."

"He'll be a demon! Even if he is still him, he'd rather die!"

And that was what he was worried about, but he couldn't let himself get caught up in that now. "Sure of that, are you?"

"Yes."

"Then why did he agree to it?"

Sam was stunned silent for a minute. "What?" he finally managed to ask softly.

"I wasn't making any of the same mistakes twice, so I told him what I would do if he ever died. He's okay with it." At least in theory, but when he was faced with the reality, there was no telling how he would feel about it.

Sam's eyes moved between Crowley and Dean, clearly trying to come up with something that he could sacrifice.

"Tick tock, Samantha."

"Look, take my soul, I don't care what he'll do!"

_"I_  do." He had had enough of this. "You know, he told me that you accused him of being selfish when he sold his soul for you. But _this?_  This is selfish. It's not that you don't want him to be a demon for his sake, you just can't stand the idea. Because you don't want me to have a greater hold on him than you do." Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Crowley wasn't letting him. Sam needed to hear this, and Dean clearly was never going to tell him. "But guess what? I already do. And that's not my doing, it's yours. He has to watch what he says around you, control all of his movements as you watch him like a hawk. He couldn't even tell you about us because he knew that you would go ballistic."

"I think I have good reason," Sam snapped when he was finally able to get a word in. "You're the King of Hell!"

"And Dean's  _happy!_  But I suppose you don't care about that, do you? You just want him to live the life that sounds good to you."

"Dean would do the same thing if the situation were reversed. And he has."

"To be fair, your situation was a bit different. I'm not trying to get Dean to do anything he doesn't want to do."

"You got him to get the Mark of Cain."

"I made a mistake. But I also removed it, in case you didn't notice."

"Yeah, so that you could do what you're trying to do right now."

"That wasn't the only reason. Look, Sam, I'm not Ruby – actually, I'm insulted by the very insinuation. I don't want anything but to be with Dean. Still, if Dean weren't happy with me, then I would agree with you, I would leave. But he is happy, so I'm not going anywhere."

Sam just looked away, not having a good response to that.

Crowley looked down at Dean's body, certainly dead by this point. He took a deep breath, forcing himself not to think about that. "I'm going to go get him, and I need you to burn off his tattoo." Hopefully he would have enough sense to listen to that. "We'll be back soon." Before Sam could look at him, he was gone.

Hell had changed a lot from the last time that Dean had been there, but he still recognized it, just from the feeling. He grimaced as he looked at the line, a cold chill running down his spine. Even though he knew that Crowley was coming for him, that didn't stop the sense of dread from running through him.

"Like what I've done with the place?" Crowley asked as he appeared behind Dean.

Dean spun around, feeling a small hint of relief. "Yeah, it's great," he muttered. "Just get me out of here."

Crowley's eyes searched Dean's face, seeing the fear that being back in Hell brought and feeling all the worse about this entire situation. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault."

"What? Don't be ridiculous. You didn't tell those demons to kill me."

"But I knew you were there. I should have been keeping an eye on things."

Dean shook his head. "It's not your job to watch out for me."

"It is my job to keep demons in line."

"And it's my job to fight demons – I know the risks that comes with. I won't let you blame yourself for this."

Crowley shook his head, knowing that arguing was useless. "I'm assuming you want your old body back?"

"Yeah. It's not like there's much room for improvement." He winked.

Crowley chuckled. "Good. Not that you being in another meatsuit would change anything, but I have grown rather attached to your body." He rested his hands on Dean's hips and took a step forward, pressing his lips against his neck. "And I know all your sweet spots."

"Crowley…?"

"Hmm?" he hummed against his skin.

"Not that I'm not enjoying this, but… can we go? Please?"

Crowley took a step back, his hands remaining in place. "Of course." A moment later he was back in his house, standing across from Sam as the cloud of black smoke that was Dean entered Dean's body. He was relieved that Sam had actually done as he was told and Dean didn't have to find someone else to possess temporarily.

Dean's eyes blinked open and black eyes first met Crowley's, then moved to Sam's as they faded to green. "Sam?" He propped himself up on his elbow as his eyes flickered between the two of them. "You're…?"

"I brought him here," Crowley answered the question before he could ask. "I thought he should have a say in this."

Dean's eyes stayed on Sam as he pushed himself into a sitting position. "You're okay with this?" He was too scared to hope for it. There was no way that Sam could be okay with this, but he was here, so maybe….

It took Sam a minute to speak as he tried to find the right words. "I don't know," he eventually settled on saying.

"I gave him a choice," Crowley explained. "It was either this or a deal-"

_"What?"_  Dean's head snapped back to Crowley, his eyes going black.

Crowley grinned. "I wasn't going to let him sell his soul."

"I tried," Sam admitted bitterly.

Dean gave a sigh as he turned back to his brother, his eyes returning to green. "I'm glad he wouldn't let you."

"I told him that if he could figure out something meaningful enough to sacrifice, then I could make the deal," Crowley continued. "But he couldn't, and so here we are."

"Are you… okay, Dean?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"I feel fine. I'm still me, Sammy."

Sam nodded, relief washing over his face. "Good." He waited a couple of seconds, then he punched Dean in the shoulder.

"Hey!" Dean's eyes widened in more surprise than pain. "What was that for?"

"You have a  _lot_  of explaining to do." He nodded towards Crowley.

Dean sighed as Crowley chuckled. "Should I give you two a mo-" He started to turn away, but froze as he saw Rowena coming through the doorway.

"Are you never going to learn?!" she exclaimed. Sam looked at her in surprise and alarm as Dean's eyes narrowed to a glare. "These two nearly bring down your operation, and you're still more concerned about helping them than your kingdom! You still can't see the truth!"

Crowley walked slowly towards her and Dean could almost feel the rage radiating off of him. "Mother," he spoke in a low, dangerous voice. "I am going to give you one chance to tell the truth. You see, I find it quite funny that Sam found out about my operation in the first place. Dean said that he got a tip, but those companies are monitored very carefully, so it can't have been anyone from them. It wouldn't be any of my demons, unless they had a death with. So who else knew? And then there's also the matter of the ambush. Someone told those demons that the Winchesters were in town and to attack them. It looks almost as though someone orchestrated a trap for them. I don't suppose you have any idea who that could have been?"

"I hope you aren't suggesting what I think you are." Rowena sounded offended, but there was a trace of fear in the back of her eyes that she couldn't hide.

_"There's only one person it could have been,"_  he growled.

Dean saw Rowena begin to reach forward and he quickly raised his hand and flicked his wrist, sending Rowena flying back against the wall, the hex bag falling out of her hand as her eyes grew wide. Crowley's eyes moved down to the bag and then he looked back at Dean, his expression faintly impressed, as he got out of bed and drew level with him.

"Yeah, nice plan," Dean commented as his eyes went black. "There are just a few flaws. Like the fact that it ultimately ends in your death."

"Fergus, you can't let him kill your own mother!" Rowena implored, a hint of desperation in her voice that made Dean grin.

"Can and will," Crowley said simply.

"We're blood!"

"And I'm letting you off easy. I'm not subjecting you to torture; that's all you're getting." He placed a hand briefly on Dean's shoulder as he turned away, which Dean took as the go-ahead to kill the bitch.

He took a step forward, smirking slightly. "This is long overdue." With a slight motion of his hand, Rowena's neck snapped and her body fell to the floor. Dean had rarely had so much satisfaction in killing someone.

There was a minute of silence before Sam broke it. "Rowena…?"

"Long story," Dean said as he turned around, his eyes moving over Sam and then landing on Crowley. He knew that, as much as a part of Crowley did want Rowena dead, it was still hard for him, and sure enough, he was staring at the far wall with his face expressionless.

Dean decided that he didn't care that Sam was watching him still; he walked up beside Crowley and wrapped an arm around his waist. Crowley leaned into him, relaxing slightly. Sam had difficulty suppressing a grimace, but he at least didn't comment.

"You owe me an explanation," Sam pointed out.

"I know," Dean sighed. "Let's go to the living room and we can talk."

"You two go ahead," Crowley said as Sam nodded. "I have some things I have to take care of."

"You going to be okay?"

"Who do you think I am?" he demanded, slightly indignantly.

Dean just rolled his eyes. He'd ask him again when Sam wasn't around, and maybe then he wouldn't be so concerned with keeping up appearances. Crowley gave Dean a peck on the lips, then disappeared.

Dean turned back to Sam, ignoring his disgusted expression. "Follow me," he said before starting off down the hall.

"I don't suppose you know what he's up to?" Sam asked as he drew level with him.

"If I were to take a guess, torturing the demons that attacked us."

"Huh…"

"If you want to say something, just say it."

"I just… never thought I'd see Crowley care about anything other than himself."

Dean was almost brought to a stop as he looked at Sam in surprise. That was far from what he had been expecting he would say. "You and me both," he finally replied before pushing open the door to the living room. He walked over to sit on the couch, kicking his feet up as Sam took a seat on one of the chairs. "What did he do to convince you? I wasn't sure if you'd ever believe it."

"I saw the way he looked at you when you were dying." There was reluctance in his expression, showing that, despite Crowley's clear feelings for him, he still wasn't happy with it.

Dean smiled, a bit surprised that Crowley had let that much emotion show. "Don't tell him that. He sometimes doesn't even like me knowing when he cares."

Sam sighed. "What I don't get is why you're with him, why you were okay with becoming a demon."

"I'm still me," Dean pointed out.

"But you chose to be a demon to be with him, didn't you?"

Dean hesitated. "Yeah. I love him, Sam."

"How? How did you even let yourself get so close to him?"

Dean thought about it for a minute, not even sure if he knew the answer to that. "He was there for me when I needed him," he finally said.

"When I was in Hell? He told me that that was when you two… got close."

"Yeah…. Honestly, I don't know what I would have done without him. You were gone, and he got me to a place where I could at least somewhat move on. If I hadn't promised you that I'd try with Lisa, I might have ended up staying with him, even though at that point I never imagined that he actually cared for me."

"But instead he nearly killed Lisa and the both of us."

"Things have changed since then. We were pretending that nothing had ever happened between us. We both did what we had to do, and there's nothing that you can bring up that we haven't already talked about and worked through."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that. Like how you had clearly decided with him that you were going to let his St. Louis operation continue. You're willing to let people die for him?"

"It's not like that. The people who are dying, they make the deal, they know what they're getting themselves into. It's not our job to save people from themselves."

"You're trying to justify it, but it won't work. Demons are luring people to their deaths and you're just standing by and letting it happen. And you know it's more than just deals."

"It's not, though. If a demon kills for no good reason, I kill him, that hasn't changed."

"Crowley's killed for no good reason."

"Like I said, things are different with him now. If a human signs up to die, that's their problem. If it's something more than that, then I'll step in. That's the way it works, Crowley's okay with it, and you know what? I have no guilt over it. You said it yourself, I've never been happier. I like this arrangement, and I'm not losing any sleep over it."

Sam shook his head. "I can't believe this is you saying this."

"Sam, when have we ever made an effort to stop deals? It's never been something we worry about."

Sam didn't say anything for a minute. "I didn't even know you were gay," he said quietly.

Dean almost laughed at the relief that the change in topic brought. "I didn't either, not before Crowley…. Look, I know I should have told you before now, but things were  _really good_  for once in my life, and I knew that as soon as I told you, everything would be different."

"I guess telling each other the truth has never been something we've been particularly good at."

"No, it hasn't."

"He really makes you happy, though, doesn't he?"

Dean couldn't help but smile a little. "Yeah. Yeah, he really does."

Sam nodded. "Then I guess I'm just going to have to get used to it."

Dean felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thank you, Sammy."


	11. Epilogue: One More Thing

Dean had had a few awkward dinners in his life, but eating dinner with Crowley and Sam may have been the worst. At the same time, though, he felt good about it. Sam may hate that the two of them were together, and he may not be one of Crowley's favorite people in the world, but they were both trying. They were cordial at dinner and no fights broke out, so Dean considered that to be a success.

After they ate, Crowley teleported Sam back to the bunker, with nothing worse than an irritated look from the later, and Dean decided to go ahead and go to bed. Demons may not have any real need of sleep, but he certainly needed to relax after the day he had had. He laid down beneath the covers, and a few seconds later he felt Crowley settle beside him. He rolled over to face him, propping his head up on his hand to look down at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked for the second time that day, tracing a hand absent-mindedly over Crowley's chest as he spoke.

"I've been worse," Crowley muttered, his eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Maybe I shouldn't have…"

"No, Dean." His eyes met Dean's, his expression sure. "I'm glad you did. She got you killed, and she deserved worse than what she got. I just wish that I had been able to."

"She was your mother, Crowley, of course you didn't want to kill her."

"I'm a demon, it shouldn't matter."

"Do you really want to get into what shouldn't matter just because you're a demon?" He dipped his head down and pressed his lips against his shoulder.

Crowley chuckled. "I suppose not." He reached a hand up, cupping the back of Dean's head to pull him into a kiss. "Are you okay?" he asked when he pulled away.

"Yeah. I mean, Sam finding out went better than I had thought it would. I don't know what you said or did while I was dying, but thank you."

"You're welcome, but that wasn't what I was referring to." He brushed his thumb over the skin beneath Dean's eye before sliding his hand down to rest on his side.

"You mean, am I okay with being a demon?"

"I know you agreed to it, but the idea is one thing, reality is another."

Dean studied Crowley's face for a moment, noticing how worried he was. "You think I'm mad at you," he realized.

"I figured you would be, yes."

"Crowley, I'm happy. It's like I have all the benefits of being a demon while still being me."

"I didn't know you thought there were benefits to being a demon."

"Hey, I'm going to have fun with these powers. And…" He rolled on top of Crowley. "Now we're the same species."

Crowley grinned, running his hands slowly along Dean's sides. "Something that I very much intend to take advantage of."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well… ruling Hell all on my own gets lonely. Not to mention, it's a pain. If I had you at my side…"

Dean just stared at Crowley in surprise for a moment. "You want me to help you rule Hell? Me?"

"You're a demon now, Dean. Maybe not a proper one, but no one has to know that. So what do you say? Want to be my queen?" He smirked.

"You are not calling me queen."

Crowley chuckled. "Is that a yes?"

Ruling Hell went against everything Dean believed in. Then again, so did dating the King of Hell and being a demon. So, why not take it a step further? "You really want to share the throne?" he checked.

"So long as it's with you."

Dean smiled. "Then, sure. Looks like you could use the help and I would just love to kick some demons' asses into line."

"I thought you would."

"Something tells me it won't go over too well, though."

"Dean Winchester as a demon and ruling Hell alongside me? Oh sure they'll hate it, but no one will be stupid enough to cross us. You were the biggest threat to us when you were human, someone would have to be a complete moron to take you on now that you're a demon."

"Good point."

"One more thing."

"What?"

"With you ruling Hell, and with how often you're here, it would make more sense if you were to move in with me."

Again, Dean was struck speechless. He loved Crowley, had become a demon for him, but somehow had never realized the permanence of their relationship until this moment. He didn't know why, but this request, of all things, made reality sink in. He had been sure when he had started dating Crowley that it couldn't last; it was the least stable of all the relationships he had ever had, and none of his relationships had been stable. And now Crowley wanted him to live with him, have a life together. The request was for permanence; something he had never believed was possible between them. But he was sure he didn't ever want this to end, and so maybe it could work….

"Dean, say something," Crowley pulled Dean back from his thoughts, his voice tight and his expression worried.

Dean couldn't help but laugh briefly before he kissed Crowley fiercely. He pulled back after a minute, grinning at his boyfriend. "Thought you'd never ask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it for the official story. However, I am planning on writing some drabbles that take place both during and after it, as well as a couple other Drowley fics and random other drabbles.


End file.
